Baby, It's You
by RAWRbby i lOVE YOUR WAY
Summary: She was like a mosquito: annoying and it won't go away. Having Samantha on tour seemed like a disaster... or so he thought. The story of how George Harrison inexplicably fell for the girl next door. NOT ATU FIC!
1. Prologue

Baby It's You

**A/N: Hey guys, I got this great idea in my head and I just needed to get this out. I just finished my other story **_**I'll Get Him… One Day and my fingers just couldn't stop typing and my brain just couldn't shut up. I've had this in my head for a while now. It's another Beatles fanfic (you can never have enough of these boys!) I just love creating scenarios about them. Okay, I'm gonna shut up now or else you'll never read the story. Here it is: Baby It's You!**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Beatles! I don't need to keep saying that in every chapter now do I?**

**

* * *

**_Liverpool, England, 1950_

"Samantha, you go play while mummy sits here and reads her book, okay?" Barbara Stratford put her five-year-old daughter down and kissed the top of her dirty blonde head before pushing her towards the playground. "Be a good girl, all right?"

Samantha nodded enthusiastically to her mother. "Okay mummy." She ran off towards the empty playground. The child rushed to the swing set, it was the first thing she always played with when she came to the park with her mom. Samantha climbed onto one of the swings. She waited for a strong gust of wind to push her, but it didn't come. She kicked her legs to and fro but she wasn't strong enough to move herself. The little girl pouted, knowing she wouldn't be able to go anywhere, but she stayed in her seat. Everytime she left, someone would always take her spot. Her special spot, which she rightfully claimed when the playground was built last year.

"Hullo," A voice from behind her greeted. "Do you need help?"

Samantha turned around to see who the voice belonged to. She eyed the boy curiously. He had blondish-brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. He looked to be two or three inches taller than her and seemed about her age or a few years older. The boy wore a green sweater with a white collar sticking out of it. He also had on black drainpipes and brown penny loafers. A gray school cap was sported on his head. His porcelain cheeks were glowing slightly red from the chilly morning.

"Uh-huh." Samantha nodded. The beautiful boy walked up to her and pushed her by the back. She soared into the air, free as a bird. (**A/N: Pun intended haha**) Samantha giggled. "Yeah!"

"My name is George Harrison." The boy introduced himself while still pushing Samantha.

"I'm Samantha Taylor Stratford." Samantha recited. Her mom had taught how to introduce herself when meeting someone new.

"How old are you?" George asked.

"I'm five."

"I'm seven."

"What school do you go to?" Samantha had never seen him around before.

"Dovedale Primary School. It's my last year there." George answered. "How 'bout you?"

"Greenbank Primary." Her hair flew in the breeze. "Higher!" George complied, pushing her even harder. She was having the time of her life. All her friends at school lived in another area of Liverpool so she never saw them at the park. Samantha screamed with delight when she was high enough to see the top of her mom's head.

"George!" A boy who looked George's age ran up to where they were. He had some dirt on his face and well as a scowl. "What are you doing? Wi-with a _gurl_?" He put emphasis on the word girl as if he were disgusted.

George stopped pushing Samantha. "Huh?" Samantha felt her stomach drop as the swing drifted further and higher without George behind her. "George?"

"Nothing." George answered his friend and stepped away from Samantha as if he didn't have anything to do with her.

"C'mon, let's go climb the jungle gym. Patrick and David are already there." The other boy grabbed George's wrist with force and pulled him towards the jungle gym. "And don't play with gurls or else you'll catch their germs." He threw a dirty look at Samantha before leaving.

When the swing finally stopped swinging, Samantha looked back at George who was now playing with his other friends. He never once looked her way. Samantha just couldn't stop staring at him. She couldn't quite place her finger on it but there was just something about him that really intrigued her.

She was just five then and didn't know what the word meant, but from that point on, Samantha Stratford was deeply infatuated with George Harrison.

* * *

**A/N: So what do you think? Good? Bad? Eh? Don't worry, that's just the beginning. Chapter one is up right now, so go on over there. Please review afterwards! I always love reading them :)**


	2. Chapter 1

"_I've got no time for you right now, don't bother me…"_

_

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__Liverpool, England, 1963_

Have you ever met that person who just won't leave you alone? They're like that mosquito that keeps buzzing around you, no matter how much you swat the air. Or that overplayed song on the radio that plays on every station. It's like "Enough! Can you just get away from me?" And the thing that's the most annoying about that person is that no matter how hard you try, they can never take the hint that you don't want to hang out with them! That was Samantha in George Harrison's world.

"Hi George!" _Speak of the devil…_

George slowly spun around in his bar stool, taking in every second where he didn't have to see the she-devil. His best friend, John Lennon snickered beside him. "Shut up." George hissed to the latter. His eyes met the girl's in front of him. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to return the greeting. Her gray eyes widened in glee.

George forced a smile on his face. Samantha was the type of girl where even though you didn't like her, you had to be nice to her because you couldn't bear to see her sad. She had lots of friends though. The guys would make fun of George when she was around. Sam always did have a thing for him and his friends took every chance to crack a joke when she was extra nice to him.

"Hi Sam." George said hesitantly. He was debating whether he should excuse himself or make a run for it. Usually the second one works when she turns around and he gets out of that place fast. But, even though what he did was pretty mean, she still was happy when she saw him; and that was pretty much everyday.

"Hey Sam, how's it going?" John was obviously trying to irk George. He didn't give a flying fuck about what Sam's been up to.

"Fantastic!" She was always this bubbly. "I just went to the _Bye Bye Birdie _movie with my friends. It was so good."

"Oh really?" John said with a sly grin. _Now what is Lennon up to?_ George thought. "Well, I'm sure George would love to hear all about it. I gotta go pick up Cynthia. We got a date tonight." John got up to leave.

George grabbed his arm and pulled him so that his mouth was next to his ear. "God dammit John, you always do this to me!" George angrily whispered so only the older one could hear.

"Who me?" John feigned innocence. "Ta." He tipped his hat towards Sam like a gentleman before leaving.

"Bye John!" Sam waved.

George groaned. Now he was going to have to spend the next half hour listening to Sam babble about something he doesn't care about. If Sam saw the disappointment on George's face, she didn't show it. She just kept standing there, smiling like an idiot. Out of all the girls he could have, this one had to fall for him. Life was a bitch. George propped his elbow on the counter top so he could rest his head in the palm of his hand. He sipped his milkshake from his straw, nodding and saying "Gear." Or "That's nice." every now and then while Sam told her story.

"…And then we found out that they gave us more than we ordered. But we weren't going to complain."

George laughed unconvincingly, but Sam wouldn't be able to tell. "Funny." _How long am I going to have to sit here and listen to this? _George thought. He didn't want to even look at Sam, much less talk to her. He looked passed the top of her head to make it look like he was focused on her. He stared at the parking lot through the window behind Sam. Just then, he saw a familiar face walking towards the diner he was in.

"Uh, Sam," He hopped off the bar stool and finished up his drink before handing the cup to the waitress near him. "I'd love to stay here and chat, but I have to go. Me and Paul were gonna go to his house and practice." George motioned towards a cherub-face, doe-eyed boy who was walking into the diner.

"But I was just getting to the—"

"You can tell me the rest later. I just really have to go." George pulled on his jacket. "Bye!" He nearly ran away from her.

"O-okay then," The boy left Sam confused. "I can't wait to see you guys perform tomorrow night!" She called after him. Sam was always the cheery one. "See ya."

George sped up his pace, looking over his shoulder to see that Sam wasn't following him. He kept up like that until he finally got to the front of the joint.

"Hey George, you eating here, too?" Paul McCartney, his other best friend, greeted him.

"Hi Paul, nice to see you, you're here to pick me up so we can go jam at your house, right?" George said, just in case Sam was listening nearby.

Paul looked at his mate incredulously. "Jam session? I never said anything about—"

"Yeah, you did. Of course you did. Don't you remember?" George spoke fast and nervously. He spun Paul around and started ushering him towards the door. "Just keep walking out." George whispered.

"But I want to eat here!" Paul protested.

"C'mon hurry up!" George struggled to push Paul out, as the second boy tried going the opposite direction. He sighed in relief when they exited the premises. "Safe."

"What's your problem Harrison? I'm hungry!" Paul's nostrils flared. "My dad had to leave early for work today and brother went somewhere with his friends so there was no point in making a decent breakfast if I was going to be by myself. So if you don't mind, I'm going here to eat!" Paul was about to walk back in when George grabbed his wrist and dragged the older boy along with him.

"I'll have my mom make you breakfast, just don't go in there." George groaned.

Paul glanced back in the diner. "Why what's wrong with eating in—" Paul finally spotted the source of George's problems. He smirked. "Are you sure you don't wanna go in there Georgie? I could eat my breakkie while you go talk to your little girlfriend!" He stretched that last word to irritate his friend.

"Shut up Paul." George said through gritted teeth.

"Why George? Don't you want to see her? I'm sure she'd love a conversation with you." Paul teased.

George turned around to face Paul. "If you say anything more about Sam, you will starve."

Paul put his arms up in the air and surrendered. "Hey, I'm done, I'm hungry. Now, let's go, I can already taste your mom's homemade chocolate chip scones melting in my mouth." The boys raced back to George's house.

* * *

"Good morning Mr. Epstein!" Sam walked into Mr. Epstein's record store. She smiled cheerfully at the man behind the counter.

"Morning Sam." Brian Epstein smiled back at the eighteen-year-old blonde. It was like the feeling of optimism surrounded her and hit whoever was near her. "What are you doing here? The weather is nice outside. Go to the park or something!"

"Just came back from there with my friends. They wanted to go to the pictures but I was too tired, so I came back here." Sam hopped up on the counter, something she always did ever since she first came to the store at age 12. "Got anything new for me?" She took the stack of records Brian was sorting through.

"You won't like those." Brian said, knowing her taste in music.

Sam looked at one of them and threw the stack on the counter like it was contagious. "Ick, classical."

Brian shook his head. "Not since yesterday."

"So what have you been up to Mr. Epstein? You've seemed really preoccupied lately." Sam asked.

Brian sighed exasperatedly. "I'm having trouble with my boys."

Sam's eyes lit up. "Your... boys?"

"Yes. See they've already got that debut album out and now I'm getting them better shows. It's going to be harder for us to move around because we've only had like two people helping out, you know, Mal and Neil. Plus they're getting better equipment. I need them to be more professional." Sam nodded while Brian continued. She knew all about the Beatles: she was their number one fan. "The boys' fan base right now is really big. Last night, they barely got out of that club because fans were blocking the doorway. Which is good, it means they're going to the top." Brain added. "But you know, I'm always having to run errands for the guys so they won't get mobbed on the streets. I can't be doing that anymore because I'd have to be at the venues already, talking to promoters, seeing the sets, you know what I mean? I'm just pretty busy and don't have time to pick up their ciggies and what not. Mal and Neil can't do it because they're helping to set up their instruments or they're helping me. And the boys' can get really cranky if they don't get what they want. Sometimes I feel like I'm looking after children, not a rock and roll band." Brian muttered the last part.

An idea popped into Sam's head. "I could do it Mr. Epstein! I could help you out."

"You? But why—"

"Mr. Epstein, I'd be perfect for the job! Not only could I run errands for you guys but I could also do stuff like sew back trousers together if they accidentally rip or help one of them get better if they get sick. I could be like you and the band's personal assistant!" Sam clasped her hands together and put on her best "you know you can't resist this" face. "C'mon please Mr. Epstein, I could really use the money."

Brian rubbed his chin. "I don't know Sam, d'you think your father would be okay with this? I mean, we'll be traveling a lot. Sometimes we won't be home for a long period of time."

"I'm sure he'd be okay with it Mr. Epstein. He always did say that a trip would do me good. Dunno why though."

Brian thought for a minute. _A girl with us on tour? _This didn't seem like it but it was actually a very important decision. "Oh all right, you've got the job. But only if your dad says yes!"

Sam hopped off the counter and hugged Brian. "Thank you Mr. Epstein! I'll ask him right now but I bet you he'll say yes!" She was about to leave but turned around when she got to the door. "You won't regret it Mr. Epstein."

"Oh, I hope not." Brian laughed. "Thanks, you're a really big help." He waved her off and Sam left. She uncontrollably beamed as she thought about what she got herself into. _I'm touring with him.

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_

**A/N: So what do you think? Good? Bad? Eh? Thanks for reading, please review! I'd really like to know what you guys think of it so far. Sorry it's so short but I just thought of this bit last night before I went to sleep (yeah, I get my deepest thoughts before I hit the sack) so I typed it out so I wouldn't forget it. I was really thinking about making a sequel to my last story but I just thought it was pretty complete already. So I apologize if you were hoping for one. I have a million ideas buzzing in my head but I'm still trying to figure out how to piece them together. But I'd really like your guys' suggestions and ideas. If any of you have ideas for chapters, please PM me. All suggestions are welcomed. Just get back to me on this story! I really need your help! Pretty please with a thank you on top :)**

**Oh yeah, one last thing- CrazyCatie, I was trying to make this a John story, but I don't know, I just couldn't. I'm sorry. I always keep picturing scenarios like this to happen to George. But I assure you there will be lots of funniness from John to come. Also he plays an important role here. But I'm not gonna say anything else!**

**Now, review and PM me… please? And thank you!**


	3. Chapter 2

_"It's not like me, to pretend. But I'll get you, I'll get you in the end. Yes, I will, I'll get you in the end. Oh yeah, oh yeah." _

_

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_

"Hello?"

"Hi Mr. Epstein!" Brian instantly recognized the bubbly voice.

"Hello Samantha. How are you?"

Sam twirled the telephone chord around her finger. "I'm good. Guess what? My dad said yes."

"Yes?"

"He said I could come on tour. Just as long as I call him everyday and I take lots and lots of pictures." Brian could almost see the smile forming on her face.

"Oh marvelous, I really do need the help you know. We have our next show this weekend, on Saturday, it's the NME Poll-Winner's All-Star Concert."

"That's exciting. Did they win anything?"

Brian shook his head, forgetting she couldn't see him. "No, the polling took place at the end of last year and they weren't as popular. But due to the success of the band's recent singles, NME made them the act of the day."

"Great, they'll get a lot of publicity."

"So, meet us at the Plaza hotel before going to the show. Be there at 5 'o clock, room 524 that's mine, we'll need to go over some matters. I'll get you a room right now. Pack up for a six day stay." Brian said professionally.

"I'll be there." Sam assured the older male. "See you."

"Buh-bye."

* * *

The Beatles were in the hotel room getting ready for the show. George sat comfy in an armchair and tuned his guitar. Paul fixed his tie while John buttoned up his shirt. Ringo, the newest member of the foursome, ran a small comb through his hair before just messing up his moptop again. Brian paced in the kitchenette worriedly as he went through the evening's schedule in his mind.

"Eppy, one of the buttons came off the shirt." John held up his white long sleeve. "Can you sew it back on?"

"Ugh, I got a stain on my pants!" Ringo looked down at his trousers. There was a bright yellow stain on the thigh. "I don't even know how it got there."

_And it all had to happen tonight. _Brian sighed frustratingly. He went over to the living room and stood in front of the four. "Boys, I can't be doing that for you anymore. I have other things to worry about at the moment."

"So what? You expect me to fix this myself?" John's face went red. "That's for girls."

"You're not going to do it."

John gave a sigh of relief. "Oh good."

"But I'm not going to do it either. I've hired someone to be our personal assistant. Someone to run errands and other stuff for us, you know cos we're all busy." Brian unsleeved his wrist and looked down at his watch. "And she's supposed to be here right about—"

There was a knock at the door.

"Now." Brian finished. "I'll answer the door. Behave." Brian walked down the hallway.

"It's a she?" Paul said with excitement in his voice.

"A girl's coming on tour with us!" John spoke as if he'd never seen one before. "I hope she's a looker. You know, so she could do more than just odd jobs for us." John waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

George spoke up from his spot on the arm chair. "I wonder who it is."

The boys heard the door swing open. "Hey Mr. Epstein!"

John, Paul, and George glanced worriedly at each other. "Oh shit." They said simultaneously.

Ringo was confused. "What?"

"No, it can't be." George whispered. He internally prayed that it wasn't who he thought it was.

"Why? What's wrong?" Ringo looked around at the other three's faces, waiting for an answer.

"Hi Samantha." Brian greeted back to the person at the door.

John, Paul, and George exchanged horrified expressions. They quickly ran to where Brian was.

"Wait for me!" Ringo dropped the comb he was holding and followed after them. "I wanna know what's going on too!"

Sure enough, the same Samantha that George always ran away from was at the door. A duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She held a large plate. The three boys stood there with their jaws dropped while Ringo was still trying to figure out what was going on. "Lads, this is Samantha Stratford. Samantha, this is the band. You know them, right?" Sam nodded like a bobble head, her eyes fixed on George. The poor boy looked in the opposite direction.

"Hey guys." The peppy blonde waved at them. She turned to their manager. "They know me Mr. Epstein."

"Unfortunately." John mumbled. Ringo elbowed him in the ribs.

"Hi Sam." The three boys spoke as if it killed them to respond. John rolled his eyes. George pretended to be fascinated by his fingernails.

Paul walked over to the door. "Um, will you just excuse us Sam? We'll be right back." Paul pulled Brian inside the room. "Wait out here for a minute?"

"Okay." Sam giggled. Paul slammed the door in her face. She stood outside patiently, humming one of the band's songs to herself while waiting.

"What's the matter?" Brian shook Paul's grip off and smoothed out his sleeve.

"What's the matter? What's the matter?" John said exasperatedly. "You hired _her _to be our assistant?"

"Why what's wrong with, err, Samantha is it?" Brian nodded at Ringo. "Yeah, what's wrong with Samantha? She seems like a nice gurl."

"Ringo, Ringo, naïve Ringo," Paul shook his head. "You've never met the bird before."

"So, I still don't see what's wrong with her."

"She's hung up on me." George said. "Whenever she sees me she can never leave me alone! I always have to find a way to get away from the crazy bird. Also she always babbles about something I don't care about. Usually I tune her out after five minutes." George explained. "She's like a, a creepy stalker! At least she doesn't follow me home. Sam can also be a spazz. It's like everything that could bother me all in one person."

"And," John spun the short drummer around to face him. "If she doesn't leave Georgie boy here alone, then she doesn't leave us alone. I dunno, just having her in my sight annoys me." John groaned. "I can't believe you had to get _her_ Eppy."

Brian folded his arms on his chest. He had a stern look on his face. "Look, I've known Samantha ever since she was twelve, she's a good person. Sometimes she helps me out in the store. She'll be a really big help for us. If you don't want her here, I'll have to make you sew the button back on your shirt yourself, John." He turned towards the rhythm guitarist. "Now, I'm going to let her back in and when I do, you better have had your act cleaned up." Brian scolded. He put a smile on his face before opening the door again.

"Sorry about that Samantha, we just had to go over some things."

"Oh, it's all right Mr. Epstein." She held up the large plate. "I baked cookies for the trip!"

"Will you look at that boys, she baked you cookies!" Brian was obviously trying to make them feel guilty. _Well, it's not working. _George thought. "What do you say to her?" Brian spoke if he were talking to children.

The three boys grumbled something to themselves before responding. "Thank you Sam." They said grudgingly.

The girl smiled widely at them, not noticing the negative vibe in the room. "No problem!" They all walked back into the living room.

"There will be if we bring her on tour." George muttered to himself.

* * *

Sam bit her lip as she finished her work. "Okay, Finished." She held up John's shirt.

"Let me see that." He didn't believe her. John snatched the long sleeve from her hands and examined it closely. "Well, what do you know? It's fixed." He ran his thumb over the button that fell out, now back in its old spot. "You got lucky." John muttered and put on the white long sleeve. He walked away from her and joined the others who were prepping for the show.

"Glad I could help?" Sam said to herself. She stood there, confused.

"You ready boys?" John clapped his hands and rubbed them together as he joined the huddle. The others nodded.

"We haven't won anything, but we are going to steal the show." Paul said eagerly.

They heard the announcer speaking onstage. _"And here they are, the fabulous Beatles!"_

"You're on." Brian appeared from behind them. "Go, go." The manger pushed him towards the exit.

The boys were about to leave the dressing room backstage. George nervously slid his hand over the neck of his guitar. He followed the guys out the door but he felt someone pull on his wrist.

"Huh?" He turned around and saw none other than,

"Good luck out there." Sam smiled widely at him. Her hand still held his.

"Erm, thanks." George laughed tensely and removed her hand. He returned the smile and quickly walked out of the room. "Whew," George gave a sigh of relief. "That was a close one."

The audience was going ballistic. There was never a time they were quiet; not even for a second. The boys tuned and plugged in. John nodded towards the others to start playing.

John started singing. His voice was loud and raucous, pure rock and roll. "_Well, shake it up baby now,_"

Paul and George echoed. "_Shake it up baby_"

"_Twist and shout_"

"_Twist and shout_"

Sam watched the show from the side of the stage. She looked at George longingly. _He's so cute when he wiggles his head. _She thought to herself. Oh, how she wanted those same fingers gliding on the neck of the guitar caressing her body. She watched him smile that mind-blowing lopsided grin. She listened deeply, taking in his smooth voice from the harmonies. That was something you didn't hear too often.

"They're so good!" Sam turned to see another girl standing next to her. She looked to be a few years older than her.

"Yeah, they really are." Sam agreed with her, making small talk.

"Who's your favorite?" The other girl asked.

"Hmm?" She faced the girl.

"All Beatles fan girls have favorites don't they?"

Sam returned her attention back to the stage and beamed. "I really like George."

The girl chuckled. "George. Isn't he the quiet one?"

Sam laughed also. "Yeah, but when he does speak, it really means something."

* * *

It was midnight, a long time after the show. The boys sat in the hotel room, each with a girl. John whispered sweet nothings to his. Ringo told a joke to a brunette. George made love to his with his eyes. And Paul… Paul was full out snogging the redhead sitting on him.

Sam stood in the kitchenette searching through the mini-fridge for food. But really, she was peeking behind the refrigerator door at the gathering in the living room. _So this was life on tour. _She thought. She hasn't even been there for an entire day yet and she wanted to leave. Sam felt alone. Mr. Epstein was away in his room doing something. It didn't help that George was with a girl that wasn't her. She felt her heart plummet to the bottom of her stomach.

"You don't have to be here you know. You can go back to your room." Sam spun around in her spot to see Brian in his pajamas and a robe.

"I know, I'm just a little hungry. I came here to grab a snack."

"The boys like to, erm, take their little friends back to their rooms at night." He didn't know a better way to put it. Sam nodded, understanding how rock stars could be. "You can go back to your room if you feel uncomfortable." Brian said fatherly.

"I'll be there in a few."

Brian was about to leave when he remembered something. "Oh and Samantha, I need you to fold the boys' shirts and pack their in their suitcases when you're not busy. Maybe even clean up their rooms a bit. They're going to have an interview tomorrow morning and I want this place to look presentable if the boys aren't. I don't really like maids doing it because they always take something from the rooms as a souvenir."

"I understand. I'll have that all done right now. I can't sleep."

"G'night Samantha."

"Night Mr. Epstein."

Sam went into one of the rooms. Paul and Ringo shared this one. It wasn't going to be hard to clean this one, they were actually quite neat when it came to housekeeping. There were few shirts and trousers scattered on the ground, but nothing too bad. Sam picked them off the ground and sat on one of the twin beds. She started to fold them.

"Need help?"

Sam looked up, startled. She immediately got off the bed. Ringo was leaning against the doorway and staring at her.

"Oh sorry, it's just that Mr. Epstein told me to clean up." She gathered the clothes. "I'll just take these back to my room so you can sleep."

"No, it's okay. I'm an insomniac, can't sleep. And besides, that's Paul's bed." The two laughed. Ringo sat next to her on the bed and started to fold some shirts. "The girls had to go, guess we weren't lucky. The other guys are watching tv right now."

Sam said nothing and just nodded.

"Prude." Ringo pretended to cough uncontrollably.

Sam giggled. "I am not!"

"Yes, you are."

"It's not that it's just, you guys change sexual partners faster than my friends change their look."

"Hey, that's just the way we roll." Ringo said coolly. They laughed again. "Oh, by the way, thanks again for removing that stain from my trousers."

Sam swatted her hand at him. "No problem."

"How'd you do that? I tried everything to get it off. Water, soap, eraser. What'd you do?"

"Just a little trick my mom taught me when I was little." Her eyes held a glint of mischief.

They continued working in silence until they heard laughter from the living room. "They're never going to bed. They're gonna die in tomorrow's interview."

"They don't like me, do they."

Ringo looked up at her. "Huh?"

She still looked down at her work. "The other guys. They don't like me."

Ringo didn't want to hurt her. "Of course not! They're just stressed. You know a girl on tour and—"

"I know better. Everytime I try to talk to one of them, mostly George, they run away. I try to shake it off and not let it bother me but, it hurts, you know?" Sam bit her lip. "I don't know why they don't like me."

_Cos they think you hang around them too much. _"It's okay, there just not so sure about having you around. You need to grow on them. Maybe you could, I dunno, take some time and try to win them over." Ringo tilted her head up so she could look at him. "Can you do that?"

Sam nodded and smiled. "I'll try."

"I remember when I first met them. It's was back in Hamburg, last year. They used to make fun of me because I was short and my sideburns." Ringo chuckled at the memory.

"What did you do to win them over?"

"They heard my drumming." Ringo replied smartly.

"So, you want me to drum for them?" Sam asked skeptically.

Ringo laughed. "No, no, not that. But I'm sure you'll find some way to get them."

"There, finished." Sam folded the last shirt and stacked them in the pile they made. They got off Paul's bed. "Your room looks pretty decent now. You wanna help me with the other?"

Ringo gestured towards the door. "Lead the way."

The next room surely looked like John and George's. Well you could mostly tell it was John's. There was an empty whiskey bottle on the bedside table. Paper balls were discarded on the floor next to the trashcan. _Someone has really bad aim. _Sam thought to herself. A suitcase was opened and flipped over. A pair of horn-rimmed thick-framed glasses were on the ground.

"This is gonna take a while." Sam picked up the glasses and placed them on the table.

"Not if we work together." They began cleaning up the room piece-by-piece.

"George I win, now pay up!" They heard John yell from the living room.

"God, John it's 12:50." Ringo shook his head. "I guess they're playing cards. John's always hiding aces up his sleeve and Paul's in on it so they can gang up on George. Works everytime." Ringo explained.

_George. _Even the name put a smile on Sam's face. "Ringo," She looked at the older boy one across the room. "Have you ever liked someone so much that you just wanted to lock yourself in a dark room, turn on sad music, and, and cry?" She hoped he would understand.

Ringo shook his head. "Nope. Not at all."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Typical, you Beatles always have the girls coming to you."

Ringo chortled. "Hey, it's not my fault I'm cute or whatever they say I am." Then it hit him. "You really like him, don't you? George I mean."

Sam frowned. "That's not, that's not true.

He gave her a knowing look. "Sa-am."

"Oh you think he knows? Am I being too obvious? I hope I'm not, that'd embarrassing. I mean, I don't wanna freak him out or anything. I just ca—"

"Sam, a word of advice., maybe you should tone it down a bit."

"That bad, huh?" Ringo nodded. "It was years ago, when I first met him. He was seven, I was five. I had trouble swaying on the swings and he came up and helped me. That's when it all really started."

"So, love at first sight." Sam blushed a deep crimson. "But don't worry, I'm gonna help you."

She looked at him incredulously. "You're gonna help me? But why—"

"Just call me cupid."

"Wow, thanks Ringo."

Ringo smiled. "Love is something you don't give up on."

"That's deep." They continued cleaning for an hour in silence, every now and then saying "you missed a spot" or "where do I put this?" The boys in the living room must have crashed there.

"There I think that's it." Ringo picked up the last of the mess from the carpeted floor. "Nice and clean. Now let's just hope John doesn't screw it up."

Sam yawned. "I'm tired, but I can't sleep yet. Usually I sleep way earlier than midnight and it's like two in the morning already. Are you sleepy?"

Ringo shook his head. "I don't hit the sack until like three-thirty. Actually, right now I'm pretty hungry."

"Oh, I just remembered! I packed a box of chocolates before I came here. You want some?"

"What kind?"

"It's assorted. There's Nestle's, Cadbury's, Bliss, Ginger Nut, all that crowd."

Ringo licked his lips. "Mmm, all my favorites! Let's go." He practically pushed Sam to her room. "You know Sam? I think I'm gonna like you."

* * *

**A/N: Yes, finally, I put chapter two up! Sorry it took me awhile, I've just been pretty busy. Thank you for all your reviews guys, I really appreciate them, they're what keep me going. If you guys have any ideas for this story, please feel free to tell me, I do need some suggestions. PM me and what not. Now, review for this chapter as well, pretty please? Thank you :D**


	4. Chapter 3

"_You're quite content to be bad, with all the advantage you had over me. Just cause your trouble and don't bring your troubles to me."

* * *

_

"Good morning John!" Sam greeted the rhythm guitarist as he shuffled into dining room.

"Please Stratford, it's seven in the morning, I have a killer hangover, don't talk to me unless you're giving me something." John sat at the dining table. He propped his elbows on the table and cradled his head in his hands. His auburn hair was ruffled in different directions. He wore his black thick-framed glasses. John yawned obnoxiously.

Sam laughed nervously. "O-Okay." She walked over to his side on the table. "I made you breakfast: scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, and coffee. To prep up for the interview." She smiled at him while putting down his plate, hoping to get him out of his horrible mood.

John groaned a "thanks" and speared a strip of bacon with his fork. "You want some cream? Sugar?" John raised his eyebrows, too lazy to even nod. Sam got out a couple packets of sugar and cream from the island top. She handed them to John, hoping now he would smile.

She huffed in defeat as she walked back into the kitchen. Not even a Lennon smirk.

The other three walked into the dining room in the same groggy, jaded-looking state as John. "Morning boys, I made breakfast." Sam spoke softer this time, not wanting to get more people mad. They probably had a rough night like John. Paul and George grunted in reply and sat at the dining table. George put his head down. Paul slumped in his seat, eyes half open. George was shirtless. Sam tried hard to not burn the bacon she was frying.

"Good morning Sam." Ringo was the only one who greeted her properly. He walked over to her spot in the kitchenette and ruffled her hair. "Mmm… smells good. Can't wait." George put his head up. Paul cracked open his eyes fully. John cocked an eyebrow at Ringo as he pulled up a chair. They stared at the short drummer incredulously.

"What?" Ringo asked, confused. John nodded his head towards Sam's direction. The cook was oblivious to the situation and happily flipping pancakes over the stove. "Hey be nice. It's not like she's done anything wrong to you guys. Besides, she made you breakfast." The other three shrugged and went back to their first position.

Sam turned off the stove and walked to the table. "Okay. Eat up. I hope it's not too hot." She set a breakfast-filled tray on the table. They put some food on their plates and ate their breakfast complacently.

"Aren't you going to eat with us?" Ringo asked.

Sam shook her head. "I ate before you guys got up."

"What time did you get up?"

"Like seven. The sun woke me up." Ringo nodded and continued eating.

"Delicious Sam. You're a good cook." Ringo shoved scrambled eggs into his mouth. Sam looked expectantly at the others. Paul gave her a thumbs-up while stuffing his face with pancakes. She brightened up even more. _Finally, some positivity from him. _Even though it was just a small gesture, at least it was looked over at John. _Well it was no use trying to get John to talk this early in the morning. And now for George. _

"Anyone want coffee? Orange juice? Milk?"

"Juice, please." George said through bites. Sam took a pitcher and a glass to where George was sitting. She put the cup next to him and started pouring. _Was there ever a time where he wasn't so cute? He's even adorable eating! _Sam thought to herself. She looked down at his skinny bare torso. _Hmm… not so bad._ Sam tried hard not to squeal. His cheeks reddened from the heat of the food in his mouth. The sunlight from out the window hit his hair perfectly, giving it a light brown color. His skin looked really soft. The way he licked his lips with the tip of his tongue made her heart melt. _I wonder if I kissed him would he taste like—_

"Sam!" George yelled. She shook herself from her thoughts and saw that she overflowed. Orange juice was now seeping into the placemat under everything. Some even spilled onto George's pants.

"Ah! I'm sorry, it's just that, I was just, umm," Sam felt her face grow hot. The Lennon smirk had made its way to John's face. _Great, only now he perks up. _Paul giggled behind his hand. Ringo gave her a sympathetic smile. George scowled at her. "I, uh, wasn't paying atten— it was an accident, I— hey, at least it wasn't a cup of coffee?" Sam laughed sheepishly.

"Just get me some napkins." George said through gritted teeth.

"Okay." Sam replied with fear in her voice. _So much for trying to win him over.

* * *

_

"Well, thanks for the interview boys." The interviewer shook the Beatles' hands.

"Thank you for your time." He shook Brian's hand.

"It was a pleasure talking to you Jerry." John said.

"It's Gary." The interviewer corrected him.

"It matters." John whispered to Paul, making the two laugh like school boys.

"Goodbye." Brian ushered him out the door.

"Ah, finally," John plopped onto the couch. His arms and legs slung over the edge like a cat. "Those interviewers ask the same, stupid questions. _When do you think you're gonna cut your hair? Do you have girlfriends? Why do you wear all those rings on your fingers?_ Never about the music." The others nodded in agreement. Paul and George settled themselves in the living room.

Ringo yawned. "I'm tired again. I think I'm going to take a kip." He headed to his room.

"Sam! You can come out now!" Brian called. She had to be kept in her room to prevent the interviewer from asking questions as to why Sam was there. They always twisted the story. When she didn't show, Brian yelled again. "I need you to come out now!"

She emerged from her room, rubbing her eyes. "That was so long. I fell asleep when he started asking about their accents. What's up?"

"I need you to run some errands for me. I want you to pick up the boys' suits from this tailor," Brian handed her a card with the name of the tailor and the address. "Right next to the tailor is a grocery store, buy me a bottle of _Dippity Doo _gel, that's the best brand. I've run out. Here is some money." Brian handed her a stack of bills. "Be back here before three, I've made reservations at a restaurant at four-thirty, we need time to get ready."

"We're eating out? What's the special occasion?"

Brian grinned broadly. "_Please Please Me _went to the top of the UK charts."

"Oh, that's great!" Sam turned towards the other boys. "You guys want anything while I'm gone?"

"Brigitte Bardot." John quipped with a smirk.

"Can you get me a pack of ciggies?" Paul asked.

Sam nodded. "Anything else." The boys shook their heads.

"No, I think that's about it."

"I'll be back. See you later." She grabbed her coat from the chair next to her and left. The boys didn't speak until Brian went to his room.

"I still think she creeps me out." George said.

"Actually, she's not that bad you know. Sam does stuff for us, pretty easy on the eyes as well—" Paul stopped in midsentence when he saw the horrified looks on John and George's faces. "I mean, yeah, eww, I hate her."

"She's always going to be around now that she's on tour with us. She's never going to leave us alone."

John had an evil grin on his face. "Well, then we'll just have to make her want to leave."

"Huh?" Paul and George shared the same confused expression.

"We'll make her hate this job." The elder said mischievously.

* * *

Sam struggled to carry all the items in her hands. She stopped in her tracks to fix everything. She hooked the hangers on her index finger and tossed the suits over her shoulder. She put the grocery bag into her tote. Sam swiped some sweat from her forehead before walking again. It had been a long trek. The tailor was three blocks from the hotel. She figured she'd like some exercise so Sam walked instead of taking the bus. She seriously regretted it. The day was cold and windy. She kept being pushed back by a strong blow but she pushed through. It took her forever to find Mr. Epstein's hair gel. It was no wonder though, they stock had nearly been gone. But she finally found everything she needed and even picked up a soft pretzel from a street vendor for herself (_No harm in mixing work with pleasure._) Halfway through her trip back to the hotel, it started to rain. Luckily, she wore flats. Sam ran back to the hotel as fast as she could. Not many people were walking the streets of London. _Weren't they smart?_

She was now trudging down the hall of the fifth floor, soaking wet. Her dirty blonde hair seemed a darker shade as it was sopped with water. Her lightly tanned skin, from being out in the sun a lot, was freezing to the bone. It didn't help that the air condition was blasting in the Plaza. Sam didn't wear make-up, so she didn't have to worry about her face running. Still, she felt cruddy. The suits were protected from the rain by a cover so they were still in good condition.

Sam found her way to room 525, her room. She hung the suits over her shoulder as she rummaged through her tote for her key. _Shoot, where is it? It must be somewhere in here? _She searched for five minutes to no avail. _I must have left them back in my room. I'm so stupid. _She padded to room 526, still struggling with the contents in her arms and rapped on the door.

Ringo stuck his head out the door and laughed at the sight in the hall. Sam was a mess. Her teeth chattered and her body trembled from the cold. "Struggling?" Sam nodded with pleading in her eyes.

"Just take these please?" Sam begged.

"Oh all right." Ringo complied, relieving Sam of the weight of the suits. He set them down on his bed.

"Thanks." She sighed and walked into the room. "I left my key in my room."

"That was smart."

"I know right." Sam said sarcastically and playfully shoved Ringo.

"Where'd you go?"

"Mr. Epstein wanted me to run some errands for him. I had to pick up your suits and some other stuff." Sam looked at Ringo up and down. His hair was disheveled like this morning and some dried drool was caked at the corner of his mouth. "Did you just wake up?"

"Uh-huh." Ringo rubbed at his eyes.

"Mr. Epstein says to get ready. He made reservations at restaurant for four-thirty, to celebrate your debut album going to the top."

"Okay. I guess I'll go take a shower right now then." Ringo walked into his bathroom.

Sam went to her room and took off her coat. She took the groceries from here bag and went to the living room. Mr. Epstein was sitting on a love seat and reading the paper. "Hey Mr. Epstein, I got your hair gel. It was so hard to find, almost all of it was gone." Sam tossed the bottle to Brian.

Brian caught it. "Thank you Samantha."

"Where are the other guys? I've got Paul's cigarettes."

Brian turned the page on his newspaper. "I think they're in John and George's room. Tell them to stop playing around and to get ready."

Sam walked towards their room. "Hurry, hurry she's coming!" John whispered. He had been listening to Sam and Brian's conversation in the hallway. The boys giggled as they scrambled to get ready for Sam's arrival.

"Hey Paul! I got your cigarettes for you." Sam walked into their room. "I hope it's the right—whoa! What happened in here?" The room was messier than the night before; it looked like the room just threw up. Empty gum wrappers were scattered all over the floor. There was a huge purple stain in the rug. The beds were unmade and untidy, as if someone had trouble sleeping and rolled around in them. Soda cans and paper balls missed the trash can. The boys were on the floor in their pajamas, food crumbs all over them. A half eaten burger and a napkin of chips were next to them. John broke the silence with a loud and long burp.

"Oh excuse me." John said, as if it were nothing.

Paul giggled. "Jo-ohn."

"What? I said excuse me."

Sam felt like she was going to explode from the gigantic mess. "You never answered my question. What happened in here?"

"Pillow fight, song-writing, snacking, waste basketball," George counted off with his fingers.

"But how did it end up—"

"Oh shoot!" John looked down at his black wristwatch. "It's already three-thirty! We better get ready for dinner. Sam, can you clean this room up so while we freshen up and get dressed?"

"But I have to get ready too." Sam protested.

"It's okay, if you're running late, we'll just tell the limo to wait." Paul answered. "Oh! I just made a rhyme!"

"That you did Paulie." George joked. The boys started walking to Paul and Ringo's room.

"This is gonna take—"

"I think there are some cleaning supplies under the sink and a vacuum in the closet." John said before leaving.

"But I—"

"Thanks Sam!"

"But the reser—"

"You're the best!" George left the room.

Sam sighed in frustration and turned around to see the nightmare she was going to have to clean up. _This is going to take forever. _She walked to the bathroom and opened the sink door to get the cleaning supplies. "The things I do to get the Beatles to like me." Sam muttered.

* * *

The three boys ran into the room and locked it. "This is going to be so funny!"

John started jumping on Paul's bed. "It already is! Just wait until she gets the surprise."

"How'd ya do it Johnny?" George asked the elder.

"Did it a bunch of times when I was younger. Me Uncle George taught me." John replied proudly.

"Well, we better get ready. Brian says we're to be outside so the limo can pick us up promptly at four 'o clock." Paul looked at the bedside clock.

"We already are ready."

"Oh right." Paul remembered. They took off their pajamas. They had put their suits on underneath their pajamas beforehand. John fixed the cuffs of his sleeves. George brushed at his moptop. Paul put on his Cuban boots. At that moment, Ringo came out of the steaming bathroom wearing a robe and drying his hair with a towel.

"Hey fellahs, what are you doing here?" He asked as he cleaned his ear.

"Uh," George looked at the other two for support but they just shrugged. "Paul needed help zipping his suitcase."

"Can't do it by yourself, ay Paulie? Looks like someone needs to start exercising." Ringo laughed at his own joke.

"Hurry up Ritchie, Brian wants us downstairs by four and it's already three-forty." John ordered.

"All right, all right sister, just don't cane me. Just let me get dressed. I'll be out in a few." Ringo grabbed his suit from the closet and walked back into the bathroom.

"Now remember," Paul spoke in a hushed tone. "When Ringo is done, we get out of here as fast as we can."

"Right." John nodded.

George fidgeted in his spot on Paul's bed. "Hey guys, don't you think this is kind of mean?" George asked. "I mean she hasn't really done anything wrong…" He trailed off.

"George, do you want Sam to stop pestering you?" John looked at George sternly.

"No, but I think—"

"Well then?" Paul raised one of his perfectly arched eyebrows.

George didn't answer, as Ringo had finished changing. "Ready to go then?"

"Yeah, let's go, hurry up." They quickly went out the room. The quartette walked down the hall towards the elevators. Soon they were in the lobby. They hurried themselves outside to avoid any fans from seeing them. On schedule, the limo was waiting for them. John, leading the way, opened the door. Brian was waiting inside at shotgun, next Malcom Evans, their driver. The boys piled into the backseat of the car.

"Hey where's Sam?" Ringo scanned the outside of the hotel for Sam.

"Yes, where is Samantha?" Brian turned around to face them.

"She, erm, said she wasn't feeling too well and that she wanted to stay in her room and rest." John lied. "She said she could take care of herself though."

"Oh all right." Brian returned his attention to the front. "I guess I can check up on her later."

"Ready to go then?" Mal put the key in the ignition and started the engine.

"Yeah, giddy-up Malcom!" Paul said.

"Wait!" George yelled. "I forgot something." He unbuckled he seatbelt.

"George, we really have to leave. Right now." Brian said.

"My mom wanted me to call her before, uh, she went into surgery." George lied.

John didn't believe him. "Surgery? For what?"

"For, for, uh, her leg." George reasoned. "Yeah, that's it. She tore her ligament."

"Umm, okay." John nodded. That sounded serious. He didn't even know George knew the word ligament. _Wait, what is a ligament?_

"You guys just go, I'll catch a cab and meet you there." George got out of the car.

"Okay, see you." Mal drove off.

George ventured back to the hotel room. When he got back to the hallway, he heard a loud pop from inside his room. _Shit, I'm too late!_ Hey took out his key and unlocked the door.

Sam stood in the middle of the room with the vacuum cleaner. She was completely covered in dust and dirt. Her hair looked as if she'd been electrified. It smoked around the vacuum. But George didn't pay attention to that. Something else caught him off guard.

The almost-if-not-always bubbly and cheerful Samantha Stratford was crying.

"It blew up." Sam sniffled. Tears streamed down her face, making clean streaks on her face.

"I know." George said seriously.

* * *

George soaked a towel in a bucket of water. When it was nice and wet, he took it out and squeezed the dripping water out. He took Sam's hand and wrapped the towel around her wrist. The vacuum had shocked her hand when she turned it on, leaving a bright red mark on her arm. _That's gonna leave a scar._ "Does it sting?" Sam slowly shook her head.

"You guys didn't have to go through all that trouble you know." She said wearily after a couple minutes of silence. "You could've just told me to leave. Hurts the same, but less work to put together."

"Sam, I'm sorry." George apologized, looking her straight in the eye this time. "That was so uncalled for. I—we should have never have done that."

"And you guys went that far because…?"

George sighed and looked at Sam grimly. "I have to admit it Sam. We weren't all that jazzed when we found out you were our personal assistant. To tell you the truth, I had to look under my bed this morning to make sure you weren't hiding there." Sam looked at him with doubt in her eyes. "John and Paul persuaded me to do this. I could never say no to them. Again, I'm sorry for doing what we did. I never thought it would be that bad. I thought it would just be bad enough for you to want to leave. But Sam we really do need you. We need you to stay. We really do need your help."

"You guys just need me to do your dirty work for you." Sam said sharply.

George opened his mouth, then closed it, knowing that was pretty much true. Even though they could have someone else do things for them, George felt it would be wrong to let go of Sam. _Maybe it's just cos I feel guilty? _George groaned. _Cor, this is the day I've been waiting for. The day that Sam realizes that I don't like her and I don't have the guts to tell her no? Those silly love songs that Paul writes are making me go soft. _George couldn't believe he was saying the next few words coming out of his mouth. "No not that. Well, yes we do need you to do all that stuff for us." The same sarcastic expressing returned to Sam's face. "But you're really cool Sam. And I realized that when you actually cleaned up the room. Nobody would have done that."

Sam turned away from George. She wasn't about to let him get to her that easy. We all know what happened when she did. "I'm just doing my job."

"Still, if it were anyone else's job, they would rather have quit than clean that mess up. I admire how dedicated you are."

_I'm dedicated in getting you to like me. _"You guys really do need me?" Sam still didn't face him.

George took a deep breath before answering. _How did I get myself into this mess? _"Yes. We need you here."

"Let me rephrase that: You guys _want _here?"

_Why do girl have to be so complicated? _"Yes, I—we want you here."

Sam turned around and gave George a soft smile. "Okay then." She wiped her eyes with her other arm. "I forgive you."

George smiled grandly. _Whoa, George, stop smiling. You don't wanna give the bird any ideas. _He toned down his expression a bit. "Good. Now, now that you're all cleaned up, let's go. I think that if we take a taxi, we can make it. You know, those snotty, high-class restaurants always take forever to make food."

"Okay." Sam blew her nose in a tissue. "Let me just wash my face first and then we can leave." Sam went to her bathroom.

_Maybe we could just start over. _George mused to himself.

* * *

**A/N: Finally, yes I know, chapter three. Yay! I am so sorry I've been taking awhile. I've just been so busy lately. I've got volleyball practice and school's starting next week Monday, AAAHHH! Stressful, yes, but Superwoman, I am. I'm not giving up on this. I'll be like the little engine that could: **_**I think I can, I think I can, I think I can… **_**Okay, random! I am sorry for making our beloved boys so douche-y, but at least George came back haha. Before I go off on a rampage, I'd just like to thank you guys for all those lovely reviews. I truly appreciate them. Thank you for reading chapter three, now review!**


	5. Chapter 4

_If you need somebody to love, just look into my eyes, I'll be there to make you feel right. If you're feeling sorry and sad, I really sympathize. Don't you be sad, just call me tonight. Any time at all, any time at all. Any time at all, all you gotta do is call and I'll be there.

* * *

_

"So you know what to do right?"

"Yeah, let's just go, I'm starving!"

"Oh all right, all right. Geez, don't shoot." George opened the front door to the Italian restaurant they were eating at and the two entered. The hostess at her podium immediately recognized George.

"Look," George stopped her before she could scream from surprise. "I just need to get to my table."

The hostess composed herself and took a deep breath. "Right," She sounded like she would squeal in delight at any moment, but still held her excitement in. "Mr. Epstein's party arrived half an hour ago. Follow me." She wove them through a thick maze of booths and customers, every now and then having to dodge waiters with a heavy load on their tray. After a couple minutes, the hostess finally got them to their booth. John and Paul were playing a hand game while Ringo drummed on the table with his fork and spoon. Brian was having a conversation with three other men.

"Thanks," George said. The hostess still stood there. "That'll be all."

She shook herself from her trance. "Oh yes. Well, just call me if you need anything. I'll be at my post." The woman giggled and went back to the front of the restaurant.

"George, you're here!" Brian looked up at the two.

John shot a dirty look at Sam. "And so is—"

"Sam, what are you doing here? I thought you weren't feeling well." Brian looked at Sam with concern.

"Nothing that a quick nap can fix." Sam replied and slid into the booth next to him.

"We just met each other outside." George said, responding to the looks on John and Paul's faces.

"So, how's your mum?" John asked as if he was testing him.

"Uh… she's doing good. She's going into surgery tomorrow." George answered apprehensively. John looked at him in disbelief for a second but shrugged it off and went back to playing with Paul. George sat next to Ringo on the other end of the booth.

"I've ordered a deep dish pizza. Is that all right?" Sam and George nodded.

"I don't think we've met before." The man beside Brian said to Sam in a posh-English accent.

"Oh yes, how rude of me. Sam, this is George Martin, the band's producer. George, this Samantha, my assistant." Brian introduced the two to each other.

"Hi."

Sam smiled. "Hi."

"And that's Neil Aspinall and Malcom Evans, the road managers." He pointed at the two other men at the table. They nodded a greeting to Sam.

"We were just talking about how the weather's been pretty stormy lately." Mal said.

"Yeah, we saw a street lamp get knocked over on the way here." Neil shook his head. "Brutal."

Sam and George looked up at each other and smiled.

_Flashback_

"_Aww, I should have brought a jacket." Sam watched a water droplet on the window collide with others, making a big, fat drop. The wind was blowing hard outside, making the branches on trees move around in every which direction. Rain pattered on the cobblestone pavement, not a dry spot on the ground. Though it was only five-thirty, the sky was as dark as night._

_George laughed. "Hey look at this!" He pointed out his window. There was a mime on the sidewalk performing for no one. Even though the weather was disastrous, he still kept in character. "Look at 'im go!"_

_Sam looked at the mime sympathetically. "Aww… I feel so bad for him, performing without anyone watching him. Also, in this weather!"_

_George looked at her with a smirk. "It's not like anyone is telling him stay out there."_

"_Yes, so? It's his job! Of course he's gonna keep on doing it." She looked out the window again. The mime was now fighting back the wind. Sam didn't know if he was miming or if he was really having trouble walking through the wind. A harder gust of wind howled and blew the mime away. He was blasted into a nearby building._

_George burst out laughing. "I can't believe he just stayed out there!"_

_Sam tried to keep a straight face, fighting back giggles. "It's not, it's not funny. That looked like it hurt."_

_George gave her a look. "Really?"_

_She cracked up. "Okay, okay! Yeah, it was!"_

_George shook his head and smiled. "It's not that funny, my arse."_

Sam and George burst into fits of giggles at the thought of the memory. Sam held her aching stomach. George wiped a tear away from his eye. The men at the table gave them a look of confusion. John frowned. Ringo held an amused expression. Paul had a mixture of both.

"What's so funny?" Brian asked.

The two looked around at the fondue pot of expressions at the table. John still had that look of "What's going on here?" They stopped laughing and looked down at themselves like two guilty children.

"Nothing." They both mumbled before glancing at each other and laughing to themselves.

* * *

It's been two months since Sam had come on tour with the Beatles. Sam had really grown on the boys. John still picked on her, but it was more in a brotherly way.

_Flashback_

"_C'mon Stratford, Eppy says if we don't get to the limo on time, it's gonna leave without us." John tapped his foot impatiently on the grass. _

"_Wait, I just need to find the right prize." Sam's hand hovered over the prize table. The band had played at an outdoor fair and got to hang around afterward. It was almost time to leave and John was stuck with the job of finding her. He caught her at the soda bottle game booth._

"_Well, will you a-hurry up already? Five girls have come up to me asking for my phone number." John whined._

"_Ah! Perfect!" Sam reached for a teddy bear wearing a top hat bow tie._

"_Should've just left without you." John mumbled._

"_I heard that." She raised her voice, still not facing John._

"_You're done now, let's go." John grabbed her arm and started pulling her towards the direction of the open field meant for a parking lot. _

"_Tell you what," Sam stopped to bend down and take off her sandals, her bare feet grazing in the grass. "I'll race you."_

_John scoffed. "Race you?"_

"_What? You scared? Are you afraid I'll beat you?" A smile played on her lips. _

"_Pssh, no!" He was always up for a challenge. "Well go on then!"_

"_On you mark," The two lined up next to a trashcan. "Get set, GO!" They went off like a ball being shot from a cannon. They were neck and neck but not for long. Halfway towards the "finish line" John sped up his pace and passed Sam completely._

"_Bet you wished you never challenged me!" He yelled behind him. "I'm gonna—"_

"_Ow!" John heard a loud thud._

"_Sam?" He stopped in his tracks and turned around. She sat in the grass and cradled her ankle in her arms, the teddy bear and sandals at her side. John ran to Sam's spot._

"_I think I sprained my ankle." Her bottom lip trembled. John bent down to her level. _

"_Sam, Sam, now don't cry…" John said sympathetically. He hated it when girls cried. He never knew what to do. "Umm… here, I'll carry you back to the limo."_

_Sam sucked in a deep breath. "Could you hand me my stuff first?"_

"_Yeah, sure." He gave her the sandals and bear. _

"_Thanks." She groaned. Sam brushed herself off. "Oh and by the way," She quickly got up. "You lose." Sam ran off, leaving John with his mouth hanging open._

"_Why you little—"_

"_Hurry up John! The limo's gonna leave soon!" Sam screamed, already in the field. _

"_That's not fair!" John yelled when he met up with Sam. "You cheated! I was gonna win and you had to lie—why are you smiling?" Sam was grinning widely at John._

"_You thought I was hurt and was gonna take me back to the limo." She said. "You care about me!"_

_John rolled his eyes. "That wasn't very—"_

"_You care about me!" She interrupted._

"_I was just—"_

"_You care about me."_

"_We were gonna be—"_

_Sam got in his face. "Just face it John Lennon, you care about me!" She spotted the limo sitting nearby with the others waiting inside. "You care about me, you care about me, you care about me…" Sam sang while skipping towards the distance._

_John just shook his head and smiled. "Girls." He laughed and followed after her._

It wasn't that hard to make Paul like her.

_Flashback_

_Sam struggled to open the new ketchup bottle. She groaned. "Just open already!" She hissed at the inanimate object._

"_Careful Sam, you might strain yourself and then your brain'll stop working." Paul said from the couch while tuning his guitar. "Oh wait, you're good." He laughed to himself._

_Sam put her hands on her hips and frowned. "Watch your mouth Paul, you better be nice to me."_

_Paul laughed again. "Really now? Or else what?"_

"_Or else I'll tell everyone that you pluck your eyebrows!" _

_He was taken aback by her accusation but kept his cool. "You have no proof."_

"_Oh c'mon Paul, how else would they be perfectly arched like that?"_

_He stuck his nose in the air. "I was blessed."_

"_Yeah right." Sam went to his room and came back a couple minutes later after rummaging through his stuff. "Then what's this?"_

_His eyes practically bugged out of his skull. "Tina!" He put his guitar down and ran towards her. Paul grabbed the tweezers out of her hands. "How did you find her?"_

"_I saw them when I was cleaning your room. I knew it wasn't Ringo's." She explained._

_He held the tweezers to his cheek. "Oh Tina are you okay? Did she drop you?"_

"_You named your tweezers?" Sam said in disbelief and giggled._

_Paul didn't answer. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't tell the other guys. They won't stop making fun of me."_

_Sam rolled her eyes and went back to the lonesome ketchup bottle in the kitchen. "Whatever."_

Ringo was still her best friend. Like he said he would, he helped Sam in trying to get George to notice her. That was one thing that didn't change. Sure, he was nicer to her now and no longer ran away when she spoke to him, but he still didn't like her. As in _like _her, like her.

"Don't worry," Ringo said, as he always did when Sam made a failed attempt at getting George to notice her. "He'll come around."

Sam finished taking the off the last of the cheap make-up on her face. Apparently, the Get-George-by-ditching-the-school-girl-look-and-throwing-on-a-cat-suit plan didn't work out. _That wasn't me. _She thought as she stared at herself in the mirror. Sam went into her closet and changed out of the black spandex pants and tight black blouse. She threw on her regular clothes and came back out. She sat across from Ringo on her bed while he sat on her chair. "But when?"

Ringo was silent for a moment. "I really don't know." Sam looked down with a doubtful expression. "Sam, you're beautiful, smart, funny; one day you're going to make a guy happy."

"You're just saying that cos you're my friend." She said, still looking down.

He shook his head. "No, no I mean every word of it." He said softly. "And one day that guy will be George. He's going to realize what he's been missing out on and come to you. One day, he's going to see what I'm seeing."

She finally smiled and looked him in the eye. "You really mean all that?"

Ringo nodded. "Every syllable."

Sam got up and hugged him. "Thanks. You always know what to say to me."

"What can I say? I'm a man of words. Now let's go, Brian said he's got something to show us down at the theater." They left the hotel room and took the elevator down to the lobby. The two walked through the crowded area until they got to the theater entrance. "Let me." Ringo said and opened the door for Sam. "After you."

"Thank you Ringo." Sam beamed at the elder as she walked inside the auditorium. "You're so chivalrous."

"Thanks." He nodded. "Wait, that's a good thing right?" She just laughed and told him to come in.

Brian stood onstage with his arms folded across his chest. John, Paul, and George sat in the front row. Sam and Ringo walked down the steps to where they were. George spotted Sam and patted the seat next to him. "Thanks for waiting." She said when she sat at his side.

"No problem." He whispered. She didn't know why he had to be so quiet, they were the only ones in the theater.

Brian gave a frustrated sigh. "Okay, now that we're all here, I'd like to get down to business." He said importantly.

John raised his hand like a schoolboy but still spoke even though he wasn't called on. "How long is this going to take Eppy? I've got a girl waiting down at the lobby for me."

"What about Cynthia?" Paul asked.

"What about her?" John shrugged.

"I'm afraid you'll have to stay until I'm finished because I have something very important to tell you." Brian continued. "Next month, we'll be attending the annual Mod Ball at the Royal Festival Hall. All of the top pop acts will be there, as well as up and coming ones."

"You called a meeting just for that?" George piped up.

"You didn't let me finish. Not only are you guys going to have to perform but also…" He paused for dramatic effect. "Ballroom dance."

The theater was filled with groans and moans.

"Really Brian? You've got to be kidding me." Paul said behind his hands.

"First you make us do those stupid skits, now you want us to be prancing around in monkey suits like a couple of fairies?" John whined. "Oh, but you know, no offense."

Brian shook off the comment. "These types of things will be really good for your rep. It'll show everyone that you're well-rounded and good at other things besides banging your heads together onstage like gorillas." The boys still whined. "Plus I already told the people who were getting the whole event together you boys were doing it."

John slid out of his seat. "I'd rather chew on broken glass." He muttered.

"That actually sounds kind of fun. I always joined those dance contests when I worked on the ferry when I was younger." Ringo said.

"I don't even know how to dance." George complained.

"Why don't Ringo and I show you guys then?" Sam suggested. "My mom was a champion ballroom dancer and taught me before." She said with pride.

"Umm… okay." Ringo went up the stage.

"Paul, pass me your transistor radio." He took the small, box device from his inside coat pocket and tossed it to Sam. She climbed up the stage and turned on the radio. She fiddled with the dial until she got to a station playing a soft tune. "Ooh, one of my favorites. This song is from a musical called _the Music Man._ Let's begin."

Sam put the radio down and stood in front of Ringo. He took her hand and put his other on her hip. She put her's on his shoulder.

_There were bells on a hill  
But I never heard them ringing  
No I never heard them at all  
Till there was you_

Ringo twirled Sam around and dipped her. She had to laugh. _Ensue the ballroom dance cheesiness! _She thought.

_There were birds in the sky  
But I never saw them winging  
No I never saw them at all  
Till there was you_

_I've never noticed this before because I thought he was unusually short for a guy, but Ringo has some really nice eyes. They're like the prettiest, bluest blue I've ever seen._

_Then there was music and wonderful roses  
They tell me in sweet fragrant meadows of dawn and dew_

_There was love all around  
But I never heard it singing  
No I never heard it at all  
Till there was you_

_Also he has the softest hands. They're like as soft as a baby's bottom._

_Then there was music and wonderful roses  
They tell me in sweet fragrant meadows of dawn and dew_

_There was love all around  
But I never heard it singing  
No I never heard it at all  
Till there was you_

Ringo smiled at her. _Gosh, he has nice lips. His smile… usually I think of a goofy little boy when I see it but right now, it's like I'm seeing him for the very first time. And right now, I'm seeing adorably cute._

_Till there was you_

The song ended and the two walked off the stage. "There, that's what I want you guys to do at the party!" Brian exclaimed. They all applauded.

"And I used to think you'd have two left feet." John patted Ringo on the back. "Who knew?"

"Hey I really like that song. What's it called again?" Paul asked.

Sam was still dazed from the dance but quickly shook it off so she could answer. "It's _Till There Was You _from _the Music Man_." Paul gave a thoughtful nod and went to go talk to Brian about something. She stood there speechless. Sam suddenly felt an arm around her shoulders.

"You're a really good dancer!" George praised her. "I never knew."

Sam turned her head towards him and she felt a slight shiver down her spine. Her face was just inches from his. His dorky, lopsided grin always did make her heart melt. She tried to keep her composure so she wouldn't scare him off. "There are a lot of things George." Sam said coolly, but on the inside, she was bouncing off the walls. Sam was surprised her head didn't explode from the excitement yet.

"Maybe you should give us lessons next time." George said gleefully. "That would be fun." Everyone was starting to leave the theater. George caught up with the other guys while Sam trailed behind the pack.

"Yeah… fun." Her thoughts were swimming. _Oh God, this can't be happening. _When she danced with Ringo, things just felt… right. But George just had that something that made her smile. She groaned in frustration. _Is this even possible?_

_I like the both of them?_

* * *

**A/N: I know, I know: "Yay, finally chapter four! That took forever." As you know, I've just been pretty busy, okay? Sheesh, give me a break! A girl can only do so much. LOL, but really guys, I'm sorry that took awhile. But today the creative juices were flowing and I just had to write! Oh yeah, sorry again, I haven't really proofread after writing so I apologize for any typos annnd hope you can still see the story I'm trying to convey. Thank you for reading and reviewing for the last couple chapters you guys! You all get cookies! Now review for this chapter if you want another one!... Pretty please?**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: So, umm, hey guys… it's been a while, am I right? Yeah I know what you're thinking, "As if! You've been gone for two months!" And I apologize. School, as I've said before, has been keeping me way too busy and stressed. Actually, the only time I would go on the computer was for school… and occasionally Facebook. But I'm back again, and most definitely not dead. I'm really sorry if I kept you hanging. Since I took so long, I feel I owe you a quick recap, because I know how much of a pain it can be to re-read the past couple chapters to review. So here it goes ladies and gentlemen:**

_**Samantha Stratford has been in love with George Harrison since they were kids. Unfortunately, those feelings have never been reciprocated. With a little luck and pleading eyes, she gets the chance to tour with the up-and-coming rock 'n' roll group, the Beatles, much to the band's chagrin. As their time together increases, Sam starts to grow on the group. So does the new drummer to Sam. What's a girl to do when she likes two incredible guys: one, who's had her in the palm of his hand for years and the other, who's been nice to her since the beginning? Find out in Baby, It's You!**_

**So how was that? Too cheesy? I apologize for the grammar/punctuation/spelling errors here, I'm just a bit too lzy to proofread. But please just bear with me.**

**Okay enough of me talking, you guys have waited too long. Here's chapter five!**

**

* * *

**

"_You better run for your life, if you can little girl. Hide your hand in the sand, little girl…"

* * *

_

"Which one do you think is better?" Ringo held up two of the same-styled short-sleeved collared dress shirts, but in different colors.

"Yellow is my favorite color." Sam said, pointing to that one as opposed to the red one in his right hand.

"Yellow it is then." Ringo took off the plain white t-shirt he was wearing and gave it to Sam. "Here, hold this."

"Uh…" Sam couldn't help but stare. She quickly shook herself before the drummer would notice.

"Okay," Ringo button up the shirt, leaving the top two undone. "How do I look?"

"Fantastic." She replied in a slow and dazed manner. That shirt was pretty tight.

"If I look good then will you stop staring at me like that? You're looking at me like I have two heads or something." Ringo waved his ringed-filled hand in front of her face.

"Oh right, well let's go see if George is ready and then we can go." _I've got to stop daydreaming. _She scolded herself. John and Paul had headed into the city earlier that day to go visit one of Paul's aunts so George, Ringo, and Sam made plans to go to the pictures and walk around afterwards.

"Oi Geo, you ready? We better head out, it looks like it's gonna rain soon." Ringo knocked on John and George's door. Sam carefully placed a red-knit beret on her head, coordinating with her red designer raincoat.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good to go." George walked out of his room while running a comb through his hair. "Hey, did you remember to get the money Brian left for us?" He asked.

"Oh shoot! No I forgot. _I _don't even have money. Where did he put it?"

"I think he left it somewhere in his room." George pointed his thumb towards that direction. "Go look there." Ringo hurried himself to their manager's room.

Sam examined herself in the mirror. She fixed the beret so it hung loosely on the crown of her head.

"Stop looking at yourself. You already look good." George crept from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder so that his face was next to hers. He stared at her in the mirror.

"Really?" Her cheeks now matched her entire outfit. George's husky voice made her spine tingle and his scent (She couldn't quite figure out what it was. She just called it the "George" scent.) was practically intoxicating. Sam nervously toyed with one of her blonde curls.

George got up and reached for a comb in his pocket. He quickly ran it through his hair. "Yeah, you look… cute." He said quirkily.

Sam smiled but didn't know how to respond. It was a good thing that Ringo showed up at that moment. "Okay so I've got the loot! Let's get going before the lines are long. The two men put on their coats while Sam grabbed an umbrella. Then they were on their way.

* * *

"So what'd you guys think of it?" The trio walked out of the cinema sharing popcorn with Sam.

"It was all right, I guess." Ringo yawned. "Not as gory as I thought it would be."

"Where to next?" Sam asked as they looked around from their spot on the street corner.

"Here." George was peering through a shop window, his nose pressing tightly on the cold glass. The excitement was obvious on his face; he looked like a kid looking into a candy store.

"What are you looking at George?" Sam stood next to him to get a better look at the apple of his eye. "Oh that? It's just some new guitar. I don't see what the big deal is."

George looked at her incredulously. "_Just some new guitar?_ It isn't 'just some new guitar' as you put it Samantha." He only used her full name when he was really serious about something. "It's the new Gibson EDS-1275!"

Sam looked at the moptop blankly. "So? It's the superty duperty new guitar. I still don't see what's so special about it."

The boy returned his attention to the guitar. "It's like the old SG model, but this one has a double neck. There's a built in fuzz tone to give the sound a distorted effect so you don't look stupid shaking your guitar for the noise."

Sam still looked at him with an impassive expression. "Okay, I have no idea of what you just said, but let's go see it. You make it sound so cool." She pulled him away from the window and dragged him inside the music store.

Ringo had gotten bored of their banter and was already inside. "Done fussing around then are you?" He said when they entered.

"He really wanted to check the new guitar out." She nudged her head towards George, who was now glued back to the guitar.

"The Gibson EDS-1275 has caught your attention as well, I see." The shopkeeper came from behind the counter to see what was up.

"Yeah, the color is really nice." George said in awe.

"It's the coolest guitar in rock 'n' roll." The shopkeeper nodded.

"I wanna buy it." George said suddenly.

Sam looked at him in disbelief. "George, are you crazy? How can you afford it?"

"I'm a Beatle, remember?" George said coolly.

"The Beatles." The shopkeeper mused and scratched his chin. "Then you must be Mr. George Harrison."

"So you've heard of us?" Ringo asked.

The shopkeeper nodded. "My daughter keeps playing your music all over the house. I'm pretty sick and tired of hearing about how much she loves George Harrison and how he 'always does that cute thing with his mouth when he sings.'" The shopkeeper shuddered.

"How old is she?" George smirked, clearly intrigued. Sam could feel her blood boiling.

"Let's just get the guitar and go." She hissed but he didn't hear.

"She's only thirteen, so don't get any ideas. My sister took her to one of your shows this year and now she's obsessed." The shopkeeper replied and shook his head. "I don't see what the big deal is about ya suit-wearing moptopped guitar players."

"So… can I still buy the guitar?" George asked a bit impatiently.

The shopkeeper eyed him up before answering. "You seem like a nice guy. We're out of the new guitars right now, but my next shipment is coming up next week Saturday. If you place your order right now, I can sell the Gibson to you for half the price. What do you say?"

George's eyes lit up gleefully. "_Half the price? _Most definitely yes! Where do I sign?" George followed the shopkeeper to the counter.

"Wanna see something cool?" Ringo popped up behind Sam.

"Uh-huh." She nodded. He led her to the back of the store.

"Drums?" Sam asked. She walked around the kit before plopping down on the seat.

"George isn't the only one who gets to play with new toys." He took out a pair drum sticks from his inside coat pocket. "Know how to play?"

Sam shook her head. "The only instrument I know how to play is the piano."

"Here, I'll teach you."

"Ah, umm, nah, no it's fine, okay okay I'll try." She protested but he handed her the drumsticks nevertheless. She gripped them tightly. "So… what do I do with them?"

"I'm teaching you how to drum." Ringo said calmly with his eyes closed.

"Doesn't that require talking or actually touching the drums?"

"To be a drummer, you must be one with the drums." He spoke philosophically.

"Ring-goooo." Sam whined.

"All right, all right! Sheesh. Don't need to be so pushy." Ringo muttered and grabbed her tiny hands in his.

"Ringo, what're you—"

"Relax, I'm just going to guide your hands." He soothed. "First you make the basic down beat with the bass drum." He pointed to a pedal connected to a mallet.

"Is that what you step on to make the big drum go boom?" Sam asked. _God, why did I have to ask that? Of course it does, everyone knows that! He probably thinks I'm really stupid._

But Ringo couldn't have been more patient. "Yup." He nodded approvingly. "Now just step on the pedal in time with my claps." Ringo clapped a steady beat.

Sam tapped her foot lightly on the pedal, mimicking Ringo's pace. "Hey, I got it."

Ringo smiled and stopped clapping. "Yeah, there you go. Next is the snare drum. Keep the down beats on the bass, they're gonna help you. On the snare drum, you are going to make the eighth notes. You play the piano so you already know what those are right?" She nodded.

"But I'm not really coordinated. I mean this is easy because I'm only concentrating on my foot but I can't move my foot and my hands in time." She still kept the down beat.

"That's why I'm here to help. It goes like this." Still holding her hands, Ringo took Sam's right one and tapped on the snare drum in double time of the bass drum's down beats. "One-and-two-and-three-and-four-and, see keep doing it now on your own!" He let go but Sam still kept the beat up.

"Hey I'm doing it!" Sam smiled in delight with herself.

"Once you've got that going, add the cymbals!" He guided her left hand and made tap lightly on the cymbal in triplets. He let go once again when he knew she could do it on her own.

"I'm playing the drums! And good!" Sam stopped to breath after playing quite rapidly and laughing hysterically from her new-found skill. "Thanks Ringo! You're such a good teacher." She turned around and hugged him.

"Aww… yeah, I am." Ringo replied jokingly. She returned the sticks to him. "Soon you'll be able to play like this." He took her spot at the kit and played random beat that he just made up like a pro. But to Sam it was like a foreign language.

"Uh…" Sam said wearily when he finished. "I think I'll just leave the drums to you and stick to playing the piano." She laughed.

"Oh there you guys are. I've been looking all over for you." George met them with a broad grin. "What're you doing?"

"Just fiddling with the skins." Ringo shrugged. Sam smiled at him. _It wasn't just fiddling._

"Well let's go. It's starting to get late." They walked out of the music store after bidding the shopkeeper a farewell.

"So you ordered the Gibson-whatever-it's-called?" Sam asked while walking next to George. Ringo was up ahead buying a snack from a street vendor.

He nodded vigorously. "Yeah. I'm picking it up next week. I'm so excited. Although, I don't know if I should be delighted or offended."

"Why would you be offended?"

"He called me a 'suit-wearing moptopped guitar player.' But I guess it's all right, he did say I'm seemed like a nice guy." George shrugged and the two sped up their pace to get to Ringo. The trio then made their way to their make-shift home.

* * *

"Will you look at that?" Paul took a sip of his morning coffee with a look of bewilderment. "_'__Beatle Bug Bites Britain?'_" He read from his newspaper.

John shot his head up from the table. "Hey that better not be a story about me scratching me bum onstage last night. There wasn't any 'ants in my pants.' I'm telling you, those tight trousers don't cut it! They ride up your crack, and not even in the good way when a bird takes her hand and—"

"John!" Paul chided the auburn-haired rhythm guitarist, almost spitting out his coffee in the process. "There's a lady in the room." He hissed and nudged his head towards Sam in the kitchenette.

"She doesn't look like one." John mumbled under his breath.

"I heard that." Sam appeared out of nowhere and poured more coffee into his mug.

"Hmph." John made a face and ignored her.

"Anyway," Paul started. "No, it's not about that, thank God. It's just about how we're getting big and all." He put down the paper and looked in a state of awe. "I didn't expect us to get this far. It seems like it was just yesterday we had our first number one single."

"We've had several hits, been on tv, played on the radio." John counted off on his fingers. "What more is there for us to accomplish?" He laughed.

"Conquering America." Brian came into the room and took a seat at the table. "You have to go to America."

"Hmm?" Sam sat next to him and started filling her plate.

"Every record we've produced in the States flopped." Brian said sternly. "I'm beginning to worry boys."

"You guys can't go to America yet?" Sam looked around the table for an answer.

"We don't wanna go to the States until we have a number one." Paul answered. "Otherwise, what's the point in going when we're not popular there?"

"Oh I wish we were." George shook his head and dug into his meal.

"Then stop complaining and do something about it." Brian said simply.

"What do you mean?" George asked.

"You guys really want to make it there?" Brian spoke in a low tone.

"Of course. More than anything." Ringo said.

"Then…" The boys leaned in to hear better. "GET OFF YOUR LAZY ARSES AND WRITE A SONG THAT'LL APPEAL TO AMERICAN LISTENERS! HOW HARD IS THAT FOR YOU TO GET THROUGH YOUR THICK, DIM-WITTED SKULLS?" The boys were taken aback by Brian's sudden outburst, which he rarely had. Apparently he had enough of their whining.

The five of them looked at the manager with hanging jaws. Brian, not noticing the gaping looks around the room, calmly took the paper that Paul was reading. "Oh I see you're in the news again. And Sam, can you pour me a cuppa as well?" And that was that.

* * *

"Hey, I'm back!" Sam came into the room and called. No answer. "Hello? Is anybody here?" _I guess I have the place to myself for a bit then. _She went into the living room and saw she wasn't alone.

"George? I was calling but you never answered. George, George are you listening?" Sam waved her hand in front of his face.

"Oh hey. When did you get here?"

"Uh, just now, George what are you doing?"

"It came." George spoke in an inaudible whisper.

"What was that?"

"It came. The new guitar came in!" He took it out from its box and ran his fingers across the strings, creating a noise equivalent to one of nails scratching on a chalkboard. "It'll sound better when it's plugged in."

"Oh, the Gibson-five-whatever-it-is." Sam said, clearly unimpressed.

"It's the Gibson EDS-1275."

"It matters." She playfully tousled his hair. "So go on then."

"Huh?"

"Don't you wanna play it?"

"No, not now. It's bad luck to get a new a guitar and just play it! You need to give it some time to get accustomed to its owner."

"It's a guitar, not a dog." Sam laughed. "So you just got it right now?"

"Yeah, I just picked it up from the store." George admired his guitar. "But I must depart from you quickly. The man says I have to go to rehearsals this instant. But I promise not to be long." He looked up at Sam who gave him a look. "Will you watch her for me?"

"Why will it burst into flames if no one looks after it?"

"You are just on a roll today, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry, but you just keep setting yourself up." Sam covered her mouth to stop herself. "But yeah, you go on ahead, I'll look after it, erm, I mean her."

George smiled. "Thanks. Well, I'll be off."

* * *

"Oh, oh come on! Why would you leave her after all she's done for you?" Sam screamed at the tv and threw popcorn at it. _Another soap making me feel like I'm a part of it. _She thought. _I better clean up before Mr. Epstein sees the mess I've made. _She got up and grabbed her half glass of soda for a refill. She walked over to the tv set and starting picking up the pieces. _This is going to take way too long by hand. _"Now where do they leave the vacuum in this hotel room?" Sam asked herself aloud. "I think I saw it somewhere in the—AHH!" And Sam came tumbling down.

"Oww…" She rubbed her foot to ease the pain. "Sam, now look what you have done, you've gone and made a big mess. What did I trip on?" She scolded herself. She turned around. "AHH!" Out of all the things in the room, she had to fall over _that._

George's guitar had soda spilled all over and a noticeable dent on the side.

Sam gasped. "George is going to kill me!" _No, he won't. You've still got some time. They're all out. _"Yeah, your right." She agreed with her inner-voice. "I can fix this. No need to freak out. All I have to do is—"

"Hey Sam! We're back!" Brian called from the hallway.

_Now, you can freak out.

* * *

_

**A/N: Too short… I know. Again, I'm sorry. I'll try to post chapter more frequently. I'd hate to give up on a story that I put a lot of thought in. Thank you guys for sticking around and reading this. I hope you guys enjoyed it and I'll try to make the chapters bigger. Now please… review? I miss hearing what you of it. **


	7. Chapter 6

"_I've got to admit it's getting better, a little better all the time…"_

* * *

Previously:

_"Oww…" She rubbed her foot to ease the pain. "Sam, now look what you have done, you've gone and made a big mess. What did I trip on?" She scolded herself. She turned around. "AHH!" Out of all the things in the room, she had to fall over __that__._

_George's guitar had soda spilled all over and a noticeable dent on the side._

_Sam gasped. "George is going to kill me!" __No, he won't. You've still got some time. They're all out. __"Yeah, your right." She agreed with her inner-voice. "I can fix this. No need to freak out. All I have to do is—"_

_"Hey Sam! We're back!" Brian called from the hallway._

_Now, you can freak out._

* * *

"George, don't you're overreacting just a tad?" Ringo held the fuming guitarist back.

"She broke my guitar…" He said slowly as if to soak in the situation. "SHE BROKE MY GUITAR!" George pointed an accusing finger at Sam.

She took a cautious step forward. "George I said I was—"

"Who the bloody hell gives about what you just said!" George growled. "You just broke my new guitar, I don't think sorry is going to pay for the damage!" He looked down at the dead instrument. "Sorry isn't going to pay for a new one!"

Brian put a firm hand on his shoulder. "George, it's not a big deal. We can buy you a new one, remember?"

George shook the manager off and spun around to face him. "This is your fault as well!" He pushed him by the chest. Brian was taken aback but recomposed himself. "If you didn't bring that—that thing," He glanced menacingly at Sam. "Along with us on tour, this wouldn't have happened!"

Sam had never seen the guy act like this before. She tried to calm him down. "Look George, it's not that big a deal. Let me repay you."

George found a new victim to attack. He turned around and gripped Sam by the shoulders. "George… You're hurting me." She managed to squeak.

"You have been irritating me ever since we were kids." George growled. He looked completely different. "I wish I had never met you."

Those words sunk deep for Sam. It felt as though her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. She felt tears well up in her eyes and a lump form in her throat. Sam shook herself out of George's grip and swallowed. She turned to leave before she could lose it.

"What are you gonna go home and cry to yer mumsy?" George mocked her. "Is she going to kiss you and make you feel better now?"

Now that was cold. _George had just crossed the line_. She thought. Sam stopped but still didn't face him. "You don't know the first thing about me." She said dispassionately. With that, she left.

The other four men stood there as if they just saw a train wreck. John, ever being the cheeky one, spoke up first. "Whoa Harrison, I didn't know you had it in you."

"Neither did I." Ringo said disappointedly. "I thought you were so much better than that." He followed after Sam but gave George a disapproving look before leaving.

Everyone stared a George, shocked. George yelled and stormed off to his room, not without giving his door a good slam.

"So Paul…" John tapped the bassist on the shoulder. "We should be writing that then, right?" Brian and Paul looked at him in shock.

"John!" Brian scolded him.

"What? You're the one who was whining about us not going to America."

Paul shook his head disappointedly. "It's better if you just stopped talking."

* * *

John bit the tip of his pen and read the lyrics he wrote. _No, that sounds stupid. _He crumpled up the nth paper used and tossed it into the waste basket, which was practically inundated. _Writer's block: I bet even Shakespeare had them. _John thought to himself.

He turned to Paul. "D'you come up with anything Paul? Paul?" The baby-faced Beatle was spacing out. "Paul!" John yelled in his face.

"Huh? What?" Paul was shaken out of his daze. "You don't have to yell mate, I'm right here."

"You're not paying attention. I was asking if you thought of any song ideas." John sat on the floor and leaned on the edge of his bed. He grabbed a cigarette from his pack and offered one to Paul.

"How can you even think about writing a song at a time like this?" He asked while John lit his cigarette. "George is going ballistic and we've got a crying girl on our hands."

"So?" John said coolly. "George is just gonna be back to normal by tomorrow and Sam's a girl so she's probably going through her monthlies or something." _John can be so ignorant toward others' feeling sometimes. _Paul thought.

"But I've never seen him act like this before." Paul said. "Maybe I should go talk to him…"

"C'mon, George is a boy not a bird. He's going to all right. So lay off Paul." John heard the door shut. "Paul?" He turned around but the bassist was gone. _No respect for their elders I tell you._"

Paul walked down the hall to George's room and knocked on his door but got no answer. "Can I come in?" Still no answer but this time he heard gentle guitar strumming. Paul tried for the knob and realized it was unlocked.

"George," George ignored him and kept playing. He softly hummed a tune. Paul sat next to him on his bed and took casual drags from his cigarette. "George." He repeated firmly this time.

The guitarist stopped playing and faced Paul. He chuckled hollowly. "I've really made an arse of myself, haven't I?"

Paul stared at him confusingly. "What?"

"I've gone and made a huge barney out of nothing." George replied with a frown.

"But why?"

"I guess… well I don't know. It's hard to explain." George ran a hand through his moptop. "She seemed so annoying when we were younger. I guess it's just stuff like that that gets to me. When I found out she broke my guitar, I just lost it." George gave Paul a sheepish look.

Paul put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Don't worry Geo, I get what you're talking about. But I really think you should apologize to Sam. She's been pretty good lately, so cut her some slack."

George nodded. "Yeah, I am. I'm just gonna give her some time to cool off. If I try to talk to her now, she'll probably smack me right in the face before I even say anything."

Paul beamed at the younger man. "My boy, he's growing up so fast." Paul pretended to wipe a tear away. "Always knows the right thing to do."

George playfully shoved Paul "Oh, lay off."

* * *

"Ringooooo…" Sam whined. "I don't want to go back." She tried pulling from his grip, but the drumming had paid off. He was too strong.

Ringo carelessly pulled her down the street. "But if we don't get back to the hotel, then we'll just have to sleep at the bus station with the homeless. And I can't do that, I've got an interview tomorrow."

"Oh, just leave me alone." She slapped at his hand, but the man was a rock.

"I can't. Brian'll have my head if something happened to you." He said with a playful smirk. But he really was worried about her.

They stopped walking. "I can't go back though. George is gonna go ballistic again. And I'm not in the mood for more tears."

"George isn't the kind bloke to hold grudge and yes, sometimes he may lose it but never lasts long. I'm sure he won't be mad at you anymore. Besides," Ringo looked up to the sky, which covered by a blanket of ominous clouds threatening to downpour. "It's gonna rain soon."

Sam chewed on her lip and thought. "Well, fine then. But just because it's gonna rain." She made it clear that that was the only reason she wanted to go back.

"Well, c'mon then." He took her hand. It began to rain as they ran back to the hotel together. Water inundated the streets and splattered everywhere with each step. Sam looked at Ringo, who glanced back at her with a laugh. _He always knew how to make things better._

"Thanks Ringo." Sam said, but she couldn't be heard over the thunderous rain.

(-:-)

"My, you two are soaking wet! What were you thinking? Running in the rain!" Brian gave Ringo and Sam a disgusted look as they came into the room. Water dripped from their hair to the carpet.

"We figured we could beat it." Ringo replied.

"Oh Britain." Sam laughed.

Brian shook his head. "Just go dry up."

"Will do, Brian." Ringo said mockingly. Sam follow Ringo down the hall to where the towels were when something covered her mouth and pulled her into a room.

"Mfffmhhmmffffmm!" Sam squealed in terror but it was muffled against the hand that desperately tried to silence her.

"Shh…. Sam! Just calm down!" The person who grabbed her said.

"George?" She whispered but it came out more like "Moj?"

"Just listen to me okay?" George spoke in a gentle tone this time as he sat her down in a desk chair.

"What was that for? You could have given me a heart attack!" She then remembered what he said before and got up. "I need to dry off." Sam muttered."

George blocked the door way. "I kidnapped you because I knew if I just came up and talked to you, you wouldn't even give me one word."

"Yes, because kidnapping keeps girls calm and wanting you to stay." Sam said sarcastically.

"Just give me a minute to explain." George begged. "Just one."

Sam never held a grudges. Actually, she was rarely mad. But what George said really hit her hard, like a train on a track. She glanced at the wall clock. "It's 5:59." She said sharply. "You've got until 6. Go."

George thought on his toes of the right things to say. "I'm sorry for snapping at you. I really, truly didn't mean to. It just… happened!" He blurted. "I know how I've said before that we should start anew and what not but, erm, I guess I…"

"45 seconds." Sam said unemotionally.

His palms started to clam up as he tried to think of the right words to say in less than a minute. "…And I guess that those… feelings from when I used to, uh, used to not like you back then just came back when I saw that you broke my guitar..."

"30 seconds." Sam said with a hint of anger in her tone.

"But, but I like you now. You know, as a friend. A mate. A girl mate." _Shit. _George thought. _She's actually got me tongue tied. _"And erm…"

"10, 9, 8…"

"What I'm trying to say is that..." George's voice was shaky.

"6, 5, 4…"

"That I'm really sorry and I just want you as my friend again!" He started panting hard. It was weird in a way. For once, Sam made him feel small. The tables had turned.

"1." Sam whispered. She looked up at George softly. "You really mean it?"

He was surprised that she didn't bite his head off. "Yes. I didn't mean to get mad, it just came out."

Sam contemplated for a bit. _He wants to be my friend. _She never dreamed that a guy like George would be in the palm of her hand like that. "Fine." She said with a playful smirk. Sam got up and started walking out. "You're off the hook."

George smiled. "Really?"

Sam nodded and grinned. "Mm-hmm."

George ran to Sam was standing and hugged her around the middle. She was caught off guard. "Good. You know, you're kind of scary when you're mad."

Warmth rose to her cheeks. She mentally snapped a picture of the moment, never knowing if it would happen again. _He's never hugged me before. _She hugged him back. "Just don't let it happen again." She joked. "But George it was really my fault though. I shouldn't have been so clumsy."

"Well it's all right now isn't it?"

"Yeah." It was silent for a moment.

"Sam?"

"Hmm?"

"We can let go now."

"Huh?" She blushed. "Oh right." Sam laughed nervously. They let go of each other.

"Let's go out now."

"What?" _He couldn't be serious. _Sam thought. _Is he really asking me to go out with him?_

"Let's go outside." George answered. Her hope plummeted a bit but Sam recovered.

"Yeah, everyone's probably wondering what we're up to."

"But first, you're still wet." George threw a towel at Sam. "Dry up with this."

"Thanks." Sam wrapped the towel around her damp hair and started rubbing it back and forth. George softly chuckled. "Huh? What's so funny?"

George grinned. "Y'know what's weird. I've known you for 12, 13 years and I've never seen your mum before."

Sam froze. "My mum?"

George nodded. "Yeah, like I remember meeting yer dad before when I was younger, me dad worked with him when he was a bus driver. But I've never seen yer mum before."

"Yeah, well my mum…"

"I wanna meet her."

Her eyes practically bugged out of her skull. "What?"

"Yeah, see if she's as weird as her daughter." Sam frowned. "I'm kidding!" George laughed. "But I do wanna meet her. She should know the type of people her daughter hangs around."

Sam tensed up. "Ah, well then…"

* * *

**A/N: ** **And that was chapter 6 after a long wait! I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry for making George such an ass, but our lovable guitarist is back! By the way, did you guys catch Paul on SNL on December 11 with Paul Rudd? if you didn't you should go check it out, he was hilarious! But back to the story. What's the deal with Sam and her mom? Will John and Paul finally write a song for their ticket to America? What's Brian doing in all of this madness? All of these questions will be answered in chapter 7! If you didn't you should check it out, he was hilarious! I hope that you guys had a happy holiday and have a happy new year! Thank you for reading and please review!**


	8. Chapter 7

"_When I was younger so much younger than today, I never needed anybody's help in anyway. But now these days are gone, I'm not so self-assured. Now I find I need you like I've never done before."_

* * *

Previously:

_George grinned. "Y'know what's weird. I've known you for 12, 13 years and I've never seen your mum before."_

_Sam froze. "My mum?"_

_George nodded. "Yeah, like I remember meeting yer dad before when I was younger, me dad worked with him when he was a bus driver. But I've never seen yer mum before."_

"_Yeah, well my mum…" _

"_I wanna meet her."_

_Her eyes practically bugged out of her skull. "What?"_

"_Yeah, see if she's as weird as her daughter." Sam frowned. "I'm kidding!" George laughed. "But I do wanna meet her. She should know the type of people her daughter hangs around."_

_Sam tensed up. "Ah, well then…"_

* * *

The boys had just finished their morning interview, answering tired-out questions and being their charming selves.

John yawned and collapsed on the couch. "Well, that surprisingly didn't kill me."

Paul playfully smacked John on the top of his head and sat next to him. "That's not nice!"

"So what are you boys going to be doing today?" Brian asked. "It's a free day, no shows until tomorrow night."

George laughed. "I think we know what Rings is gonna do today." He prodded the drummer with his foot, who had already passed out on the floor.

"Me and John are gonna go see a movie then go to Jane's house. Her place always gives us some inspiration." Paul answered. Jane Asher was Paul's steady girlfriend and an actress. He had met her earlier in 1963 when she interviewed them and was asked to pose for a picture with them.

Brian put his hands on his hips. "Are you crazy? You'll be mobbed! Do you remember what happened at the Palladium?"

"Don't worry Eppy, we've got that covered." John answered with a cocky grin. "We're going in disguise again."

"As what this time? A policeman or a photographer?" Brian shot back with a smirk. The both of them shrugged.

"I'm going out in a disguise too." George said.

"And where are you going?" Brian asked him.

"Out." George simply answered.

"With who?" Paul asked. Now this was turning into a serious interrogation.

"Sam."

John perked up. "Oh, Sam now." He said in a sing-song voice. "George, you dog you." Paul howled along with him.

George ignored the two. "Speaking of which," George turned. "Sam, you can come out now!"

The blonde came out of her room. "You guys are finally done? That was longer than the last one."

Brian nodded. "Yes. Uh, Sam," Brian straightened his tie out. "Where are you and George going?"

"To visit my mom." Sam said while putting stuff into her bag.

"Oh," Brian said seriously. "Right. Well be careful you guys." He exited to his room.

"We will." George called out to him. "C'mon Sam, let's go." The two left the hotel room.

"Oh, going to meet the family already?" John smirked.

"John," Paul said in a horrified tone. He stopped laughing and faced him. "You don't think Sam and George are…"

There was a pause as they gave each other an understanding gaze. "Nah!" They both said and broke into fits of giggles.

"Never would happen,"

"Not in a million years." John said. But they weren't too convinced.

* * *

"So are they separated then?" George asked as they stepped onto the train. Sam looked at him with a confused expression. "You're parents, I mean. I've never seen them together." Sam didn't answer and fixed her watch. Her smile turned did a complete 180. George apologized. "Oh, I'm sorry for asking, I was just—"

"No, no," Sam assured him. "It's fine. But to answer your question, I guess you could say that."

"Oh, all right then." George didn't push any further on the matter. "What are the flowers for?" He pointed at the bouquet she was holding.

Sam's smile returned and she looked down at the flowers. "Daffodils are her favorite."

"Mine too." George returned the grin. They stared at each other for a moment.

Sam broke the silence with a giggle. "You know, that disguise is quite ridiculous."

"What? You don't think it looks realistic?" George had on a brown Fedora hat. On his face was a mustache and goatee to match his hair. He wore a brown trench coat and gray slacks with brown loafers. To top the look off, he borrowed (more like stole) John's Buddy Holly glasses.

Sam looked him over. "Yeah, realistically stupid-looking."

"That doesn't matter. As long as nobody knows who I am, I'm okay with walking around looking stupid." George replied.

Sam made a whiny noise. "But I have to walk around with you. That's so embarrassing!"

George spoke in the Queen's English accent and poked Sam on the nose. "Well, too bad little girl."

She laughed. _Today is going to be interesting. _"By the way, we're getting off on the second stop."

"Oh yeah then." They were silent the rest of the ride there. After about half an hour, the train met their destination.

"C'mon, let's go George." George followed Sam out of the train. They were pushed and shoved throughout the train station but in a matter of minutes they finally got out.

"So are we taking the bus to her place or…"

"No, it's really close by. We can walk there." Sam answered him. She pointed the direction. "It's that way." The two walked for some time until they ended up in front of tall, iron gates. George's jaw dropped as he read the sign on the gates out loud.

"_Gilly Hills Cemetery._"

* * *

John and Paul sat next to each other at the piano frustratingly pounding at keys to find a note. They had been down there in the cellar of the Asher residence for about two hours and already had gotten the basis of a song down. They just had to find that one note to fit; the one note that would complete it. The two of them were so close yet so far. Until…

"Paul that's it!" John exclaimed, nearly knocking the other Beatle off the piano bench.

"What? What's it?"

"That, that last chord you just played. Play it again!"

"Oh, you mean that E minor?" Paul repeated the note. "You think that works?"

"Yeah, yeah, hear listen." John put the loose leaf containing the lyrics up on the stand and started playing. He sang the song written and played the tune along on the piano, not forgetting to include the golden E minor.

Paul clapped his hands excitedly. They worked on the tune for a couple of minutes. "John that's it!"

"Wait, we need another opinion." John rain upstairs and down the hallway to a room.

"Peter! Open up!" John banged loudly on the hard wood door until the redhead opened up.

"Yeah? What is it John?" Peter was Jane's older brother.

"Me and Paul need your opinion on something." John answered. Peter followed him into the basement. "How does this sound?" They played the song again Peter, not missing a note or beat.

"So, how was that?" Paul asked, ever the crowd pleaser.

Peter shook his head and smiled. "Lennon and McCartney have done it again."

John and Paul high-fived each other. "America, here we come!"

* * *

Ringo woke up in a daze. "Wha? What's going on?" He looked around but he was the only one in the living room. He bent forward to stretch but stopped when he felt a sudden crack in his back. "Me back's killing me." Ringo looked down and realized he had been sleeping on the ground. "Well that was a dumb arse move of me."

Brian walked into the living room with an empty mug. "Oh, you're finally up then?"

"Yeah," Ringo rubbed his eyes. "Where is everybody?"

"Well, John and Paul went to Jane's house to write songs," Brian answered. He went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of tea from the boiling pot.

"And the others?"

"Sam and George went out to visit her mum."

"Why'd he wanna do that?" Ringo asked, appalled.

"Dunno. They didn't say much before they left." Brian took a sip from his mug. "Would you like a cuppa?"

"Yes, please." Ringo said politely. Brian got out another mug and poured the hot tea in. He handed it to Ringo. "Ta."

"George is in or a real eye-opener when they visit her. Poor girl."

"Why?" Ringo blew over the mug and took a sip.

"Barbara Stratford is dead."

Ringo nearly did a spit take.

* * *

The two of them stood there in silence for a minute. George was trying to find the right words to say. "Sam. I—I didn't know. I—"

Sam ignored him. "Well then, let's go." She walked up to the gate and pushed a button. She spoke into the intercom. "Hey Mr. Ryerson. I'm here for a visit."

An old crackly voice was heard from the speaker. "Sam is that you? You haven't been here in awhile. Well come on in!" The gates automatically opened.

"Hey!" Sam greeted the old man at the guard house who presumably was Mr. Ryerson.

"Sammy!" The old man got out and gave the girl a hug. He playfully ruffled her blonde hair. "Just look at you! You're all grown up!"

Sam laughed. "Mr. Ryerson I keep having to tell you, it's not like I haven't been here since I was little. I was just here with my dad a couple months ago, remember?"

Mr. Ryerson tapped at his temples. "Well this old geezer is definitely starting to lose it up in the old noggin. By the way how is your dad now? How come he isn't with you?"

"My dad is back home in Speke. I just wanted to take a trip down memory lane for a bit."

"Oh that's right. You guys moved there right after, the umm…"

Sam nodded before he could finish to save him the trouble of answering. "Yeah yeah." There went an awkward silence.

"Who's your friend here?" Mr. Ryerson hadn't noticed Sam's company.

"How rude of me. This is—"

Mr. Ryerson's eyes widened and pointed at George. "Wait, I know you! You're George Harrison from that Beatles group!" By that time, George had taken the stupid disguise off his face.

George nodded shyly. "Yeah, that's me. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ryerson." George shook the old man's hand.

"How could I forget you? My granddaughter is a really big fan. She would stop screaming when she saw you on the telly last night." Mr. Ryerson laughed heartily.

George smiled. "That's nice. You can tell your granddaughter I said hi. Sam is our personal assistant so she's traveling with us. I just came because I wanted to see where she lived before she moved."

Mr. Ryerson put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "I better leave you two then to go visit her." He turned to George. "Your friend here is the nicest girl you'll ever meet."

Sam blushed. "Mr. Ryerson!"

"You better take good care of her while you're out, all right?"

"Will do, Mr. Ryerson. See you!" The two of them walked off towards the graves. "A nice bloke isn't he?"

"He was my neighbor before my dad and I left. He was good to us. Helped us push through when mummy left. He was kind of like a second father in a way." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "His granddaughter that he was talking about and I used to play with each other all the time."

"Ah I see." _Lame. _George thought. _That's all you can say? _But he really couldn't say anything. He's known Sam for so long and yet he didn't know much about her. He didn't know of her pass life before Sam moved to Speke and became his next door neighbor. Come to think of it, he didn't know her personal life. Sure he's met some of her friends before but nothing like he's learned from that quit chat with Mr. Ryerson. Up until Sam came on the tour and warmed up to them, she was known as 'the annoying girl who always stalks George.' After hearing what Mr. Ryerson and Sam said, George didn't know what else to say. He didn't know if he should comfort her, because she didn't seem sad, or ask her more about her younger years, afraid that he might depress her further. It was safe to stay quiet until he just had to blurt out,

"So how did she die?"

George retreated his curiosity in case he triggered some unwanted memories but Sam ignored the question. "Over there." Sam pointed towards a big, white statue of an angel and smiled sadly. "It's near there. Let's go." George followed her into a flat, grassy area filled with tombstones until they got to one in the shape of a cross. George read:

_Barbara Stratford_

_August 14, 1920 - November 05, 1952_

"Hi mum." Sam spoke to the tombstone. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Or at least it feels like it. I got you your favorite flowers." She placed the daffodils on the grass next to the tombstone. "A lot has changed since I've last seen you." It was quiet. But not the eerie quiet that freaks you out, but a peaceful quiet. Sam continued. "The biggest thing is that I'm the assistant for the Beatles!" She began talking animatedly as if she were having a real conversation. "We've been traveling all over England for a while now. I'm sure you've been hearing about them up there, haven't you? Oh I even brought one of them along with me to see you!" Sam grabbed George's arm and pushed him towards the grave.

George looked bewildered. "What?"

Sam nodded encouragingly. "Go on! Talk to her!"

George rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh…" He had to admit he felt weird talking to a rock but he still did it for Sam's sake. "Hi Mrs. Stratford." He looked back at Sam, who gave him a thumbs up. "I'm George Harrison. I play guitar in the band." George began to relax a bit. "I think you know me. I went to the school across from your daughter's when we were grammar school."

"She says you seemed familiar." Sam said.

George nodded. "Right then. Let me just say Sam is in good hands while she's touring with us. And she's been a really big help to the band. Without her, we wouldn't be able to function. Actually, I was the one who initiated the visit. I just thought you should know who your daughter is hanging out with, make sure she isn't under any bad influence or anything."

George looked back at Sam for an answer from her mum. "She says you can stop sucking up now." They both laughed. "But she thinks you're a nice guy."

"Well Mrs. Stratford I think nice is a contagious virus," George put a hand on Barbara's tombstone, feeling more confident. He smiled at Sam. "'Cause I caught it from a nice girl."

* * *

"I can't believe you put that ridiculous disguise back on." Sam whined and took a bite of her chips. The two had gone to eat at a local diner. The place was cramped and noisy, but at the same time quite homey.

"We are out in public again, you know." George took a sip of his soda. "I'm not really in the mood to be mobbed by birds."

George watched Sam wolf down her cheeseburger and chips. "Gosh Sam!"

"What?" She said with her mouth full.

"You eat like a pig."

She swallowed down a big gulp. "Ugh! I haven't eaten diner food in a while and I am starving because I haven't eaten anything since breakfast." Sam said defensively.

"But slow down. You're gonna give yourself a stomach ache."

"Oh all right." Sam complied. They ate in silence until,

"You know I never answered your question."

"What question?" George asked.

"You asked how my mum died."

George almost choked on his sandwich. He gulped it down. "I was just wondering. You don't need to answer. I was being nosy—"

"No, no it's fine. I haven't talked about it much and keeping it bottled inside won't do me any good." Sam took another bite. "You really wanna know?"

"If it's not too much trouble." George said with that adorable perplex expression.

"She was murdered." Sam said bluntly.

_First I learn she doesn't even have a mum anymore and now I know that she was murdered. Shock after shock! _George thought. "What? H-how?"

"A teddy boy knifed her when she was walking home from work." Sam said distantly. "I remember calling her at work, telling her to hurry up because I wanted to show her a picture I drew for her at school."

"And then?"

"She was late. My dad and I went out to look for her. We saw people gathered around and ambulance. I saw my mum's body being wheeled in on a gurney. I remember running towards her body and my dad was talking to the paramedics. I wanted to stay and was going ballistic but my dad pulled me away." George saw that she had balled up a napkin in her clenched fist.

"But?"

"She didn't make it."

"And that's when you moved?"

"Yeah. We couldn't afford the house we were living in anymore. My parents were both equal in income and that was just enough to pay for our old house."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that Sam."

"Hey you asked."Sam laughed sadly. "But I get by. It happened so long ago. Besides, my mum wouldn't want me to stay sad." Sam got up suddenly. "I'm done. Are you ready to go?"

George nodded. "Yeah, just about." Before Sam seemed like an idiot who wouldn't stop smiling but George figured it out. Her smile was like a mask hiding away the pain. It amazed him that she didn't feel like throwing a fit right then and there. Sam was strong.

The two split the bill and left the diner. They walked along the dark streets, the street lamps dimly lighting the sidewalks. They hadn't realized how long they've been out.

"You can take that disguise off now. No one'll see you." Sam stuffed her hands in her coat pockets.

George looked around. "Yeah, I think it's safe." He tore off the mustache and goatee and stuffed them into his pockets. But he kept on the Fedora hat and John's glasses. _They suit him better. _Sam thought.

She looked up at the guitarist and on instinct she hugged him. "Ah! What was that for?" George hugged her back.

"Thanks. For coming with me." Sam smiled at him and laid her head on his shoulder as they kept walking.

George laid his head on Sam's and kept his arm around her back. "It's no problem. Now let's go home." The two continued walking to the train station in comfortable silence.

It hadn't occurred to Sam that he said _home. _

* * *

**A/N: And that, my dear readers, was chapter 7! Came quicker than I expected. I hope you enjoyed the little Sam/George fluff. I guess I've been in that mood lately. Thank you for reviewing the last chapter. I greatly appreciate it. I hope it wasn't too long a wait for you. I made sure I didn't slack on this chapter. Thank you all for reading and please review!**


	9. Chapter 8

"_I don't want to spoil the party, so I'll go. I would hate my disappointment to show. There's nothing for me here, so I will disappear…"_

* * *

Previously:

She looked up at the guitarist and on instinct she hugged him. "Ah! What was that for?" George hugged her back.

"Thanks. For coming with me." Sam smiled at him and laid her head on his shoulder as they kept walking.

George laid his head on Sam's and kept his arm around her back. "It's no problem. Now let's go home." The two continued walking to the train station in comfortable silence.

It hadn't occurred to Sam that he said _home. _

* * *

"Sam wake up!" The girl heard the voice blaring in her ear.

"I'm up." She answered in a feeble mumble.

"Get up, for real." The person shook her this time.

"I'm up."

Ringo shook her some more. "I mean it Sammy—"

"I said I'm up!" She shot up from her pillow and screamed. Sam calmed down a bit and rubbed her temples. "What is it? I thought you guys would be gone and checking out the venue by now."

"I know we're about to leave right now but I need you to fix this small tear in my cuff."

Sam groaned and fell back into her pillow. "You woke me up just for that?"

Ringo shrugged. "You're the only one who can do it. Remember?"

Sam yawned and stretched across the bed like a cat. "All right, give it here." She held out her hand and Ringo gave her his arm. "And hand me my supplies." Ringo complied.

"You're gonna do it while I'm still wearing it?" Ringo asked, confused.

"Mm-hmm."

"But what if you—"

"Do you want me to fix or not?" Sam barked. She wasn't exactly up and ready this morning. Ringo nodded obediently like a school boy.

Sam worked on the cuff quickly. In a matter of minutes it was all patched up. She patted his wrist. "There, you're good to go."

"Thanks."

"Ringo, hurry up!" They heard from down the hall.

"Better run." Ringo kissed Sam on the cheek and ran out of the room. "Thanks again!"

Then it hit her. Her cheek didn't heat up from the lip contact as she expected. She didn't feel that way towards him like before. Those days trying to figure out her feelings for Ringo were over. Sam found out it was just infatuation. Sam was a romantic.

"That's one romantic complication solved." She said before going back to sleep.

* * *

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, YEAH!" The Beatles finished the concert and ran off the stage. They ran out the back door of the concert hall to avoid rabid fans and into a waiting limo.

"Hurry close the door!" Paul ordered George who did so but it didn't really matter as there was no one else there at the back of the building.

"Cor, the birds were going barmy in there!" John declared. "I didn't think they could scream any louder but then I just said 'Testing 1,2,3' and they just went out of their minds!"

"That's because John Lennon is the dreamiest!" Ringo cooed in mock falsetto.

"Back to the hotel Mal!" George called out to the driver. "And quick!" And they were off through the sea of hysteric girls.

* * *

"Hey, you're back." Sam greeted the boys as they entered the room. "I fixed you all a snack."

"It better not be that healthy crap you're always trying to get me to eat." John called from the bathroom.

"No." Sam said in a half-annoyed/half-offended tone. "But that food is better than what you usually eat!"

"Whatever." John muttered when he came out.

"Thanks Sam." The other three Beatles said simaltaneously through bites of their grilled cheese sandwich.

"So how was the show?" Sam asked as she sat down with her cup of tea on the love seat.

"Same as always." John took his sandwich. "Loud."

"And not because of our playing." George said in the same matter-of-fact tone as John.

"Don't worry. All that screaming means the fans love you." Sam sympathized.

"Of course you'd know Sam. You used to be a ballistic fan too." Paul said with a satisfied smirk. Back when they played small clubs and dance halls, Sam and her friends would be the loudest.

Sam calmly took a sip of her tea. "Paul don't push me." She said in a sing-song voice.

"Sorry." Paul uttered like a five year old who was just put into time out. He wouldn't let Sam tell the other guys his secret; even if it meant swallowing his pride.

"Good." The others gave her a weird look but she shrugged it off and went back to her usual demeanor. "What do you guys plan on doing tonight?" She was met with a chorus of "Dunno." There was silence as the guys tried to think of something to do on their Saturday night.

Paul snapped his fingers. "Ah, I've got it! Mal was telling about this club near the hotel earlier. It's 18 and over so the fans won't find us. He said the press are never aloud in there either."

"Great! Let's get ready then." John lit up a cigarette.

Sam twiddled her fingers. "Can I come along?" She asked feebly. "I've never been to a club before."

Ringo shot a nervous look at George. "Erm…"

Paul shook his head. "I don't think you should Sam. You see, clubs aren't like the dance halls you used to watch us in. It's umm…" He waved his hand in the air, thinking of something to say.

"It's what?" Sam put her hands on her hips.

Ringo put a hand on her shoulder. "We just think that you wouldn't like it there. You know, loads of alcohol, guys who'll kill ya if you look at them funny…" He tried to say it as delicately as possible.

She laughed. "You guys make it sound like that place is the back alley in the ghettos or something." She got up and started off towards her room. "You're all just exaggerating! I bet it's not as bad as you put it! It's not that I won't like it. It's that you guys don't think a goody-two shoes like me won't be able to handle a 'big bad' club."

"Also because you might embarrass us." Paul quipped.

"Didn't I just say don't push me?" Paul retreated back to his corner. "I'm coming along, whether you like it or not." With that, she left to get ready.

"You think she can handle it?" George asked.

John took a drag. "Dunno. But she's a persistent one, ain't she?"

* * *

Ringo was right.

Sam stuck out of that place like a flower in a pile of coal. The club was clouded with smoke. It was a good thing that she brought a handkerchief along with her or she'd be passed out by now.

Sam stood awkwardly next to the bar as she watched the band currently playing on stage. That was the only thing she could stand: the music. She tapped her foot along with the beat and fiddled with her white pencil dress that came right to her knees. Once they stepped into the joint, the guys went their separate ways and Sam hadn't seen any of them since.

"Hey cutie," Sam turned around. There was a man who looked about twenty with blonde hair and brown eyes working behind the counter.

"Oh. Hello." She greeted politely.

"Would you like a drink? We've just received a new stock of beer. Fresh from the keg." The bartender said smoothly.

Sam shook her head. "Oh no thanks. I think a club soda will do just fine."

The bartender gave her a funny look but did so. "One club soda, coming up." He headed over to the levers.

Sam continued bopping to the music when she felt a tap on her shoulder. "Oh hey John!"

John nodded a greeting and leaned on the bar table. He carelessly threw his cigarette on the ground and stubbed it with his toe. He chuckled. "What a prude…"

Sam pounded a fist on the bar top. "What's that supposed to mean?"

John batted his eyelashes and swatted his hand bashfully. "'Oh no thanks. I think a club soda will do just fine.'" He mocked her in a high-pitched voice.

"So? I like it."

John shook his head. "Sam, you really need to learn how to let loose."

"What are you talking about?"

"Wow, you're more clueless than I thought." He looked at her with a flabbergasted expression. "I mean just look at you! You look like you're going to attend a Sunday sermon, not a club. You always speak so properly! You hate alcohol!" John yelled over the music.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm sorry I below your standards. Actually above your standards." She glared at him. "So what if I don't sleep around like you guys? What if I don't do drugs or whatever if that's what you're thinking? I do have some self-respect you know!"

John smirked. The club was not all that great like how Paul described. He was about to make his night entertaining. "You know, George likes a girl who's not afraid to let go."

"Wha-what's that got to do with me?" She wasn't about to break down in front of him.

John ignored the question. "And he loves a girl who knows her alcohol."

"I think George could and would go for better than what you're describing." Sam said, rather convincing herself than John.

John had her now. He was making her squirm. "Drop the act Sam. I know you like George."

She sat on a bar stool and spun around in it absentmindedly. "I have no idea of what you're talking about."

John stopped her so she'd look him straight in the eye. "Sam, you tend to wear your heart on your sleeve."

Sam curled her hair around her finger. "Can you not tell anyone?" She whispered but it became impossible to hear even if she spoke normally.

"Trust me," He put a hand on her shoulder. "You aren't exactly subtle about your feelings."

Sam sighed. "I like him, so what. What am I supposed to do about it?"

"Like I said before, George likes a girl who can let loose."

"You're just playing with me."

"George always looks up to me. I think I know my disciple better than anyone else." John stood up properly and walked off. "Later."

"That Lennon always knows how to twist with people's emotions." Sam fumed. But she couldn't help thinking that everything he said was…

Right.

"Hey bartender!" Sam turned on her bar stool. "Scratch the club soda! Get me a pint of your best beer!"

* * *

George laughed as he spun the girl in front of him around. They danced in time with the music. The girl smiled seductively and winked at him as she pulled him closer to her tiny body. She'd never let him lead the entire time they were dancing together but he didn't mind.

Her full red lips met his ear. "Let's go someplace more quiet." She whispered.

"Uhh…" He didn't expect to get that far. George was never good with the birds. It's not that they didn't like him but he was just… shy. Usually Paul was the one to help him out with stuff Iike that. So far on The Paul McCartney Guide to Winning the Ladies, he had 1) bought the girl a drink. 2) asked her to dance. 3) told her she was beautiful. Now there was step 4, get the lady alone, which at this point wasn't a big problem. But he didn't know if he wanted to follow her anymore. He was like a teenager who had just gotten his license and received a new Lamborghini instead of the family car. He wasn't ready to drive something that big. Granted, he did lose his virginity when he was 17 but Paul had set that up for him and it wasn't all that great as he expected. The point was that he got himself into this and quite frankly, things were moving way too fast.

But she was so hot.

And at the same time she scared him.

_Smash! _

The two of them turned their heads towards the bar. A glass mug had fallen and smashed on the ground. Beer puddle on the floor.

_Saved! _George thought. "Oh better see what that's all about!" He let go of her. "See ya Layla!" He ran towards that direction without turning back once. _If the other guys had seen me they would never let me see the end of it. _"That was so embarrassing."

"George!" Layla called but he was already out of earshot. He never turned back once.

The moptop pushed through the sea of people and moved towards the bar. He actually did want to see what was going on.

A short woman danced on the bar top while the men around her erupted in cheers. She pranced from one barstool to another barefoot. One of the men splashed her with beer to which she responded by shimmying herself dry. She was met by more whoops and hollers.

"Sam?" George said almost inaudibly and walked towards her.

The blonde spun around and immediately recognized the guitar player. "Oh hi George!" She said eagerly. As she jumped back up on the bar top, she lost her step and fell off. "Whee!"

George caught her effortlessly. She practically fell into his arms. Fear was absent. Sam broke into fits of giggles when he caught her. George didn't have to ask a genius what was wrong with her. He put Sam down. "Sam, open your mouth."

She playfully poked his nose, which came out as more of a painful jab. "Heh, you're not gonna try to snog me now George? I'm not ready!" More obnoxious laughter.

George automatically smelled the alcohol in her breath when she answered. "I've got to get you back to the hotel before you get into trouble." He said worriedly but at this point, George was pretty much speaking to himself. He grabbed her arm and they began to leave.

Sam tried to break free from his grasp. "B-but I don't wanna, I don't wanna leave."

"Well, you can't always get what you want." George spoke to her like she was a small child.

"What do ya think yer doing?" A gruff voice said. George turned around. The man who asked was a grizzly bear. He had a thick black beard and wore a thick leather jacket. He wore an expression that said "kill." Come to think of it, all the guys who had been crowding around the bar did as well.

George, unphased, answered calmly. "I was just going to take this lady home. You see, her mum will be very worried if she doesn't get home on time."

Sam wriggled around some more. "George, I told you I didn't want to go. I'm having fun!" She stomped her feet and whined.

The grizzly bear cracked his knuckles. "Lady says she doesn't want to go so she doesn't have to go."

George dropped the nice guy act. "Lady is under 21."

"Lady isn't finished dancing." The bear growled.

"She can't. It's time for her to go home. So if you excuse us, we'll be leaving." George grabbed Sam again and tried pushing passed him.

"Big mistake." The bear took George by the shoulders and thrust him back into the circle of angry men. All hell broke loose. Anyone passing by would see what looked like a comedic scrap. George and Sam were caught in the center of it all. George received a falcon punch to the eye which he knew was going to darken soon. He ignored the pain because that didn't matter right now. All that mattered was getting Sam out of there safely. She stood there in a daze but no one seemed to notice. George heaved a sigh of relief. _Good, she's all right. _Everyone seemed to just be after George or each other and he just managed to dodge them.

"Sam." George shouted over the raucous noise. "Let's go play horsey!" He motioned for her to get on his back. _There was no way she would get out of there with him fast enough._

Sam, excited by a new game, hopped on without a second thought. She slapped his butt, which made George blush. But Sam wasn't exactly in her right mind at the moment. "Giddy up horsey!" She squealed in drunken Western delight. George ran as fast as he could, avoiding the clubbers as best as he could. He received a kick here and a hair pull there but in no time made it to the exit. Sam was fine and having the time of her life while George was caught in the pandemonium. _That's good. If she were scared, she'd be screaming her head off and attract loads of unwanted attention._ The mayhem was drowned by the music so people who were still out walking didn't take a glance at the club. He hadn't noticed she fell asleep soundly on his shoulder despite the chaos they went through. Just to be safe, George ran all the way home with Sam in tow. He ran straight into the night.

Off in the darkness, someone had been watching.

* * *

**And that was chapter 8! Thank you for watching, erm, reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Anybody catch the Layla reference? Thank you for reviewing the last chapter. Those of you who are reading this and haven't yet please add this story to your favorites! They make me smile! But you know what would raise a teenage girl's self-esteem? If you review this chapter! Wow, I am sounding so needy, but I love you guys!**


	10. Chapter 9

"_I get by with a little help from my friends. I get high with a little help from my friends. I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends…"_

* * *

Previously:

_The mayhem was drowned by the music so people who were still out walking didn't take a glance at the club. He hadn't noticed she fell asleep soundly on his shoulder despite the chaos they went through. Just to be safe, George ran all the way home with Sam in tow. He ran straight into the night._

_Off in the darkness, someone had been watching._

* * *

Her head was spinning rapidly like a twister.

The very thought of cracking her eyes open hurt just as much as doing the action. Her stomach turned somersaults and backhand springs. The overall pain caused a couple hot tears to make its exit down her flushed cheeks.

She heard the door being thrown open as hit the wall. "Good morning sunshine!"

Sam whimpered. It was like a gunshot rang in her ear. Her mind threatened to explode. "Go away Ringo." She moaned and hid under her blanket. "Just leave me alone."

"But why?" Ringo asked in mock ignorance. He sat on her bed and pried the covers open. "The sun is up, the sky is blue. Time to wake up!" Ringo gave her a defiant smirk.

Sam managed to pick an arm up and wipe away the tears. "Can you please not talk so loud? You don't be so mean."

Ringo leaned into her face and whispered this time. "So how's your first hangover going?"

"Horrible." She mumbled. "I feel like I'm going to die but then some great force from above thinks I'm too stupid to die and is making me live the rest of my life with this horrible hangover. That's how my first hangover feels."

Ringo nodded in agreement. "Harsh. But that's what you get when you have too much to drink during your first time." He said in a sing-song voice.

"I don't even remember what happened." She forced herself to sit up against the headboard. "All I remember is drinking after…"

Realization hit the both of them. "John." They said simultaneously.

"Let me guess." Ringo said. "John provoked you into drinking by using a little-known fact about you, mainly because he was bored." Judging by his tone, this had happened to him too.

"Yeah." Sam shook her head disappointedly. "I can't believe I acted like such a fool over something so stupid."

"What was that stupid thing?"

"Nothing important. It was stupid remember?" Sam couldn't tell him it was over George, even it was Ringo she was talking to. He'd be laughing his head off.

"Okay then. But anyways, George told me what happened."

"He did? Is he up right now?"

Ringo shook his head. "No, he's still sleeping. But we talked late last night, a little after you guys got here."

Flashback:

_George silently closed the door before entering the hallway._

"_We're back!" George heard John yell. The others came into the room._

"_Shh!" George scolded the older Beatle. "Sam's already sleeping and it's late."_

_John shrugged and lay down on the couch. "It don't matter. We've done louder things at night and she still didn't wake up." He didn't have to go into specifics on louder things._

"_By the way things happened tonight, I wouldn't be too sure about it." George said as he sat himself on an armchair._

"_Yeah, what happened to you guys? How come you left early?" Ringo asked. "By the way, did you catch the bar fight? We didn't think we'd make it out there alive. It was crazy!"_

_George scratched the back of his head, thinking of where to start. "Well, it's sort of a long story."And it really was._

_Paul, too tired to even contribute to the conversation, yawned loudly. "Can you tell us about it tomorrow? I'm really exhausted." He started walking to the room he and John shared. Somehow, the room-sharing hierarchy changed again. Paul turned back. "John, you coming?"_

_John held his index finger up in the air. "Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." Paul left and surely a minute later, John lazily followed suit._

_Ringo sat in the chair across from George. "So tell me what happened. It's okay, start from the very beginning."_

_It was all right that they left because George was more comfortable talking to Ringo about this anyway. The other two would take the mickey out of him for doing such a thing. "I was dancing with this girl. She was cute. Long black hair and full, red lips." George described._

_Ringo smirked. "What was her name?"_

"_Umm… Lila, Lisa, Layla. Something like that."_

"_All right, go on."_

"_And then I heard a mug fall on the ground and shatter from the bar. I went to see what was going on."_

"_Wait, so you just left the bird?" Ringo said in disbelief._

"_Well, she actually wasn't all that great." George answered as truthful-sounding as possible._

"_Right." Ringo understood and just nodded. He knew how George could be shy around girls._

"_So yeah, I left her and went to the bar and you'd never guess what I saw." George said in awe. "Sam, drunk out of her mind, dancing all over the bar top in front of the guys there!"_

_Ringo looked at him with the same expression. "You're kidding!"_

"_Yeah, I could tell she was drunk because she would never do such a thing sober!"_

"_But why? Why would she? Sam doesn't drink." Sam, the Sam we all know? That Sam drinking alcohol? That's crazy! Just as crazy as John lending people money._

"_I know that was the weird thing. But I hadn't seen her since we all split up so I don't know what could've happened after that."_

"_Then what happened?"_

"_Well, I got her down and told her as best as I could that we needed to go before she got into any trouble but then she was all like 'I don't wanna go!' but then she didn't really have any control on what she did. But the guys at the bar didn't want her to leave."_

"_Ooh…"_

"_So you see how it got ugly really fast. I literally had to fight them off with Sam in tow. I guess they were still fighting by the time we left. That's why you saw that huge barney when you were going. I had to carry her the whole way back here or else she'd slow me down."_

"_I take it that it was hard to get her to go to sleep." _

"_She wouldn't even lie down unless I played a song. Three encores later, Sam was off in slumberland."_

_Ringo felt for George. "Rough."_

_George slumped in his seat. "It was like babysitting a child." _

_Ringo got up and patted George on the head. "Well get some sleep. You deserve it. You did the right thing tonight. If anything else happens, I'll take care of it, don't you worry." _

_George got up slowly and shuffled towards his room. "Thanks Rings."_

Sam was shocked. "He did all that for me?" Ringo nodded. "I am such an idiot for doing that in front of George!"

"Now don't go beating yourself up Sammy. It could've happened to anyone."

She groaned massaged her forehead. "So much information. My brain is going to explode."

"That's why I you brought this." Ringo reached for the bedside table and grabbed a glass of water and an aspirin. "Usually the best cure for a hangover is more alcohol, but I knew you wouldn't like that, so I thought this would have to do."

"I am never drinking ever again." Sam decided. "I guess I just can't handle it. I don't even know how much I had last night. Wait, is that the only reason why you woke me up? To tell me all this?"

"Well, you should know what really happened and it's better to get rid of a hangover as soon as possible. But you can go back to sleep. The others are still dozing off, but I'm wide awake. I think I'll go make some breakfast. If you want some just ask me. Don't trouble yourself too much."

Ringo was about to leave. "Wait."

"Yeah?"

"John and Paul don't know?"

He nodded and repeated her. "John and Paul don't know."

Sam smiled for the first time that morning before laying back down. "Thanks Ringo."

* * *

He slept soundly. Sam watched him curiously as he was sprawled out on the bed. She figured George or any of the other guys would be up by now but they weren't. He seemed so peaceful and off in his own little world, but there was something not quite right about this picture.

She was about to gasp but caught herself. His left eye was mottled into a deep purple. _Had it been that bad last night? _She went to his bathroom and fetched a towel. She dampened it with cold water. Sam went back to his bedside and leaned over him. She gently placed the towel over his eye.

George woke up slowly from the cool contact. "Wha?"

Same gave him a sheepish smile. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up. Just leave it on and it'll get better faster."

He stopped moving to process what was happening. _Oh right, last night. _"You don't have to do this." George pointed to the towel.

"No, no," Sam said as she tenderly patted the towel down. "I'd do it for anyone. Besides it's the least I could do after what you did."

He closed the working eye and spoke. "It wasn't anything special."

She looked at him in disbelief. "Nothing special? Ringo told me all about it. You got me out of there because I wasn't okay. You got me to sleep when I protested. And from what Ringo described to me, I seemed so obnoxious last night."

George lightly chuckled. "You weren't that bad."

"Just look at you!" Sam removed the towel momentarily before putting it back on. "You have a black eye the size of my fist!"

George tucked his blanket up higher, but was careful that he didn't move his head. "Well, you know, a shiner is just a part of life." He answered semi-sarcastically.

"George, I'm serious! You could've gotten, like, really hurt."

"Getting you out there was more important." He sat up and manually held the towel. _Huh? _was all Sam could think. "Brian would've had my head if anything happened to you."

_Riiiiight. _"But really, thank you for helping me. When I wasn't actually being me. You're a good guy, you know?" Sam said truthfully.

"Like I said, it's really no big deal. I've seen tons of those happen."

_He's crazy! He just got punched in the face and he brushes it off like it's nothing! I'd be scarred for life! _"But not to you." Without thinking, Sam brushed the hair from his bad eye, but he didn't push her hand away. She studied him with a concerned expression and bit her lip. "Brian's going to flip when he sees you."

"Don't worry, it's not like he's gonna be all like—"

"George!" The door slammed open. A raging Brian greeted them. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Spoke too soon." George mumbled. Brian held a newspaper in front of his face. The headline read: **Beatle's New Girlfriend?**

George cleared his throat and read aloud. "'_Last night at around eleven o' clock at night, Beatle George Harrison was spotted leaving the Tinsel Town Club on Everly Street.' _I didn't know Beatle was an official title!_ 'Upon leaving, Harrison was reported to have been carrying a girl on his back and running off in the opposite direction. Several club goers say that a bar fight had broken out earlier but no one knows if George and the unknown girl were part of it. No other Beatles were seen at the club.'_" George read the last sentence with a smirk. "Lucky bastards. Brian you can't really believe the rubbish these papers print out, do you?"

"Uh, maybe you'll believe it when you see the picture that came along with it!" Brian unfolded the front page, exposing a slightly blurred picture of the two. You wouldn't have noticed it was them except for the yellow streak and the unusual moptop.

"I should've known reporters would be looking around for us."

Brian took a good look at George for the first time since he came in there. "And your eye! What happened to your eye?" Brian said with mixed concern and aggravation. "Were you caught up in the fight? George, don't lie to me! This is serious! People are going to think you're some, some Teddy boy!" Brian went on to Sam. "And Sam! Why were you caught up in all of this? Do you know why George has a black eye?"

"Umm…" Sam felt a bead of sweat trickle down her temple. There were two conflicting sides to her. _Should I tell him the truth? If Mr. Epstein finds out that George was hit because I was out of control last night, I'll be gone! I should though. George shouldn't have all the blame on himself. He did save me after all, so it wasn't his fault. But Mr. Epstein has never been mad at me and I don't want to see what'll happen when he is. _"Uh, the thing is Mr. Epstein is that—"

"Brian, you're making a big deal out of nothing." George got out of bed and stood in front of the manager. "Yes, I was caught up in the fight last night. But it's not what you think. You see, some guys were giving Sam trouble last night and wouldn't leave her alone. So I came in and helped her. When I kindly told them to leave her alone, they got all mad, hence the black eye."

"George, wha—"

He ignored Sam and kept going. "After that, it was just out of our control. That's why we left before the others. I was sure they would be able to get out of there themselves. As for the picture, I knew that Sam wasn't a fast runner and that's why I piggy-backed her. We had to get out of there before anyone else spotted us." George smiled. "See Bri, it's all just a big misunderstanding."

"Oh well, all right." Brian bought it. "But are you two okay? Not seriously hurt or anything?"

George shook his head. "Nah, I think we're fine."

"Okay, I'll leave you to rest some more. Now you take care of that eye, all right?" Brian ordered. "Get it better as soon as possible. We don't want the press to keep asking you about it, now do we?" He laughed and left the two of them alone again.

George turned around to face Sam. She mouthed a grateful 'thank you', too shocked too speak.

"Hey don't worry about it, remember?" George laughed and put the towel back on his bad eye. "You know you were a funny drunk right? It'd be hilarious to see that one again!"

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right." Sam laughed along with him.

* * *

**A/N: And that was chapter… erm 9 was it? Chapter 9, right? Haha jk. I hope you enjoyed it, tell all your friends yadda yadda yadda. Sorry it was so short, but I'll get you the next chapter as soon as possible! Just you wait and see! Thank you for reading and for those who reviewed my last chapter, I love you all! But you know what would make me love you even more? If you reviewed this chapter, of course! …Pretty please?**

**In other things I wanna talk about, let me ask you a question. What is your favorite video of the Beatles? I'd really like to know what you guys think!**


	11. Chapter 10

"_Ob-la-di ob-la-da, life goes on, ah! Ladadada life goes on!"_

* * *

Previously:

"_Okay, I'll leave you to rest some more. Now you take care of that eye, all right?" Brian ordered. "Get it better as soon as possible. We don't want the press to keep asking you about it, now do we?" He laughed and left the two of them alone again. _

_George turned around to face Sam. She mouthed a grateful 'thank you', too shocked too speak._

"_Hey don't worry about it, remember?" George laughed and put the towel back on his bad eye. "You know you were a funny drunk right? It'd be hilarious to see that one again!"_

_She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right." Sam laughed along with him._

* * *

"So this is going to be a bit rough because we've only practiced it once or twice." Paul said as he sat Sam down in a chair on the opposite side of the glass window. The others got their instrument ready in the studio.

They were all at Abbey Road Studios to record the newest Lennon/McCartney track. "For America." Paul kept saying. "Them Yankees better like this one or they never will."

"Oh, okay?" Sam said, confused. "But as much as I like hearing you guys sing, I thought nobody else was a loud in the recording studio except for the band and Mr. Martin. Especially girls. By the way, where is Mr. Martin?"

"I know we have that rule against others in here." Paul replied. "But we needed an opinion from a real fan."

"And our fan base mainly consists of pre-pubescent girls that don't know what the meaning of blue balls is." John said with a knowing smile.

Sam scrunched her eyebrows. "What _are_ blue balls?"

"Well you see Sam, it's when a man's—"

"OKAY!" Paul clapped his hands loudly and made a face at John. "Not appropriate at this time." He scolded. John looked at him with the most angelic face her could make. "But anyways, we need a real opinion. Martin may like it, but he's not a 'fan' fan. And I think he went to go get a drink from the vending machine before we start recording."

"All right, so let's hear it." Sam propped her arms the switchboard and leaned on her elbows. "Talk is cheap." She smirked.

John counted off before playing a short guitar riff. "1, 2, 3."

_Oh yeah, I´ll tell you something_

_I think you'll understand_

_When I say that something_

_I wanna hold your hand_

_I wanna hold your hand_

_I wanna hold your hand_

_Oh, please, say to me_

_You'll let me be your man_

_and please, say to me_

_You'll let me hold your hand_

_Now let me hold your hand_

_I wanna hold your hand_

_And when I touch you i feel happy, inside_

_It's such a feeling_

_That my love_

_I can't hide_

_I can't hide_

_I can't hide_

_Yeah you, got that something_

_I think you'll understand_

_When I say that something_

_I wanna hold your hand_

_I wanna hold your hand_

_I wanna hold your hand_

_And when I touch you I feel happy, inside_

_It's such a feeling_

_That my love_

_I can't hide_

_I can't hide_

_I can't hide_

_Yeah you, got that something_

_I think you'll understand_

_When I say that something_

_I wanna hold your hand_

_I wanna hold your hand_

_I wanna hold your hand_

_I wanna hold your ha-a-a-a-a-a-and_

"So?" George finally said after they dramatically posed for the ending. "How was that?"

"Gah! I love it!" Sam let out a familiar, hysterical scream. "That was perfect!"

"But too bad we didn't record that one take." Ringo said in realization. The other guys groaned and threw things at him. "Oi, watch it!"

Paul shook his head. "Don't remind us."

* * *

_Two months later, France Tour…_

The band got together at Sam's house to get ready for their tour in France. They each had left their homes very early that morning so fans wouldn't spot them.

"Which should I bring?" Paul held up two caps, one of them black and the other one brown. He took turns placing them on his head. "Which looks better? The black or the brown one?"

John scratched his chin and looked at him thoughtfully. "I think you should leave the no-good bassist underneath at home."

Paul jokingly threw both John's way. The rhythm guitarist ducked just in time so they hit the wall behind him. John stuck his tongue out and blew raspberries at Paul. "Hey, whoa, whoa!" Sam saw them goofing off as she came from the hallway. "Watch where you're throwing things! And stop horsing around! Packing, remember?" She reprimanded.

John and Paul exchanged deflated looks. "Yes, mum." They went back to packing their luggage.

"Hey is this you Sam?" Ringo picked up a picture off the top of the fireplace.

Sam took if from Ringo and examined it. "Oh no, that's my mum, from when she and my dad went to London for the first time."

"Really? You guys look exactly alike!" Ringo put the picture back.

"Oh don't forget these now." Sam picked up his drumsticks from the dining table.

Ringo laughed. "Yeah, almost forgot about those." He packed them in his suitcase.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Gosh, if you did what would you do?"

Ringo shrugged. "Dunno. Chopsticks?"

"Hey, hey how are you guys doing?" Mr. Stratford joined them all in the living room.

"Oh, we're packing all right. Thanks for letting us use your house to get ready." George said respectfully. They could have gone to George's house next door but it was getting a much needed renovation. Since the band was popular in the UK, and now in other countries, George could afford for his family to have that luxury. His parents were staying with his aunt in the meantime.

"No problem, we're close to the train station so you won't have trouble getting there." Mr. Stratford replied as he went to the kitchen. "And please boys, just call me Uncle Matt. _Mister _makes me feel like my hair is falling out."

Sam giggled. "But dad, your hair _is _falling out." She whispered to him.

Uncle Matt looked at her with a mock-stern expression. "Yes, but we don't want them to know!" He said in a heavy Irish accent.

George smiled. "All right, _Uncle._" Ringo was right. Sam did get her looks from her mother for she looked nothing like Uncle Matt. He had auburn hair, much like John's and his nose was slightly upturned. But the one thing they had in common were their eyes. They had the same piercing gray eyes.

Sam joined her dad in the kitchen and went to get a glass of water. "I'm so excited! My first time in another country!"

"Which reminds me, I have a surprise for you. Sort of a going away present." Matt opened one of the cupboards and reached for a package on the top shelf. He handed it to Sam. "Open it."

"Okay." She took the cover off and looked at her father skeptically. "A whistle?" Sam took it out of the box.

Matt bent down to Sam's level. "It's a rape whistle. Haha." He whispered. "If you're ever in any sort of trouble, you blow it as hard as you can so someone can come and get you. At least that's what the man at the store said."

Sam bit her lip to prevent a giggle from escaping her lips. _What an awkward gift! _"Er, thanks dad." She put it around her neck. "I'll be sure to use it… if I'm ever stuck in a rut."

He kissed Sam on the top of her head. "Hey but I mean it. It's your first time in another country and you have no idea of what goes on there."

"Daddy, I'll be fine." She assured him.

"You don't know that. France may be nice or it may be wild. I don't know, haven't been there meself you know." He laughed out how little he had seen of the world.

"I don't think I know where this is going…"

"The point is Samantha," Sam now knew her dad was being serious. "I don't want you to get hurt. If anything goes wrong, I won't be there to protect you."

"But why aren't you coming dad?"

"I've got to work. Someone needs to pay for living." Matt chuckled. "I can't take off just yet."

"Oh all right." Sam gave the whistle a good blow. "Thanks for caring so much. And uh, for the whistle."

"Ah, but I'm just giving your leg a pull lass. That wasn't the real present." Matt opened the oven and took out a similar-looking package. "Here you go."

"Cor, it's like early Christmas." She opened up the box. Her eyes widened. "Dad, you didn't have to!" She took the bracelet out of the box. It was a charm bracelet with one heart charm.

"I figured that you'd find a charm where ever you guys went." Matt took the bracelet and put around her wrist. "It's real gold you know."

"Aww, dad it must of cost you an arm and a leg!" Sam looked up at him gratefully and hugged him. "Thank you!"

"Oh it's nothing. Just as long as you fill it up." He patted the top of her head. "Now go on and finish packing. Mr. Epstein will be here any minute now."

At that moment there was a knock on the door. Matt looked up and smiled. "Prompt as usual."

John opened the door to greet the manager. "You've arrived Eppy!" He pretended to dust Brian off. "We didn't think you'd make it."

Brian shooed him away and smiled distastefully. "Good to see you to Lennon." He turned to the rest of the band. "Hurry up boys," Brian saw Sam. "erm, and girl. Pack the rest of what you need. The taxi is waiting out in the front and he's costing me a fortune per minute he's waiting!" They all scrambled to put the last of what they needed in their luggage.

"Thanks Matthew for letting them hang out here." Brian said thankfully as he shook his hand. "I hope the rascals weren't too much trouble to you."

"No, don't worry Brian. They were all right."

They heard a honk outside. "Oh better go! Thanks again Matthew!"

"Bye daddy!" The boys chorused as they headed out.

Sam hugged her father. "Bye dad." She grabbed her bags and went for the door.

"Bye Sam." He waved. "I'll miss you."

Sam gave him one last look before leaving. "I'll miss you too."

* * *

Sam closed her book shut and put it back in her tote when she saw the boys coming. She looked up. "You're late."

"Oh sorry." John said, though he didn't mean it. "Fans you know. Got to satisfy their needs."

"Yeah, my hands cramping up from signing so much autographs." Paul rotated his wrists. "I think I messed up about half of them."

Sam shook her head and smiled. "They're happy just to be there. Now let's go, Mr. Epstein is already inside and I told him I'd wait for you guys out here." They followed her inside the restaurant, weaving through a maze of empty tables. Like always, the restaurant was completely reserved just for the Beatles.

"By the way Sam," George sidled up next to her as they kept walking. "What was that book you were reading?" He began rummaging through her bag. Sam didn't mind though, he was just curious. George read the cover when he found it. "_The Count of Monte Cristo_?"

"Yeah, it's really good. I could lend it to you when I'm finished. I figured since we are in France, it'd be perfect to take the book with me."

"What's it about?"

Sam suddenly got excited. She loved talking about books she's reading. It was just like the telly but it's all happening in your head. "I'm right in the middle right now, but I know the book is about revenge. Well there's this guy named Dantès, and he's wrongly accused for supporting Napoleon and is arrested. So it takes place in the 1800's as you can see. And then he gets out and—well actually I should stop, don't want to spoil it for you. But it's really good."

"Oh, I'm sure." George gave the book back to Sam when they got to their table.

"You're late." Brian said in the same tone as Sam.

"Sorry Bri, too busy crowd pleasing." Ringo answered. They all scooted themselves into the booth.

"All right, now that you're all here let's order." Brian called up the waiter and he patiently took their orders. Sam and Brian were going to split a _pot au feu_, beef stew with mixed vegetables, because they found out it was too big for either of them to eat by themselves. Paul had the _poulet frites, _chicken and fries, not knowing how the other dishes would look or taste like. He's had his share of food poisoning and wasn't going to take any chances.

"I'll have what he's having." George and Ringo said in unison and pointed at Paul.

"_Escargot _please!" John said in his best French accent. The waiter finished writing down the orders and left with their menus.

"_Escargot _John?" Paul said, shocked. "Do you even know what that is?"

"Sure I do, snails right?" John grinned widely at the bewildered faces looking at him.

Sam raised an eye brow. "Yeah, snails. As in the kind that you see crawling on the sidewalk. That type of snails."

John didn't see what the big deal was. "What? I'm willing to try anything."

"O-kaay." George sang. Everyone knew John was a psycho. But he was their psycho, so it was okay.

"So good show tonight, huh boys?" Brian said as he spread his napkin on his lap.

"It was all right." Ringo said. "Except for that electrical problem before the show. Delayed us for about 10 minutes. I didn't think it would work."

Sam nodded. "Oh yeah, I saw that. Neil told me everything was all hooked up to some radio program and it just blew up."

Paul agreed and began making "exploding" hand motions. "Yeah, it was just like, boomf! Boomf!... Boomf!" His hands spread out and went in a circular motion with every "boomf."

"But other than that, the French electrical supply was really good." John said. After a half hour of chatting, their food arrived. John's plate sizzled and smoke rose from it. When the waiter put down their plates and left, they all glared at John. John looked up at them from his plate. "What?"

Everyone, including Brian, pounded their fists on the table and chanted loudly. "Eat it! Eat it! Eat it!..." John looked back down at his plate and gulped heavily for effect. He speared one of them with his fork and shoved it into his mouth. The other five roared with laughter when he swallowed. John had a thoughtful look. "Hmm… not that bad. Tastes pretty damn good actually!" Paul and George looked disappointed. They were both waiting for John to spit it out and go crazy or something.

"Only Lennon would think so." Ringo whispered to Sam. She giggled into her hand. They ate, they laughed, they all had a great time. Halfway through their meal, the waiter came back to their table.

"Monsieur Epstein, zere is a phone call for you in ze kitchen." The waiter said in lame English.

Brian looked at him uncertainly. "For me? Do you know who it was? And how'd they know I was here?"

The waiter thought hard. "I forget. Ze man had a long name, I cannot pronounce, but he said eet waz very important."

Brian slid out of the booth. "Well all right, if it's that important." He followed the waiter to the awaiting call.

"Hey I heard you mess up during the show." Sam said when Brian left.

John had finished his meal already. He slumped down on the bench and rubbed his stomach complacently. "What do you mean?"

Sam cocked an eyebrow. "I wanna hold your _gland_?"

John laughed. "Oh, that wasn't a mess up." John and Paul every now and then would slip in suggestive lyrics during concerts.

"Wouldn't make a difference, they wouldn't understand anyway." George said. "But you know what the problem was?"

"You're shite guitar solo?" Paul sneered.

George shook off the snide comment. Of course he was joking. "The crowd was mostly fellahs."

John nodded and smiled. "Yeah fellahs."

"It seems that the mademoiselles had a curfew." Ringo piped up.

Brian came back to their table. He looked as though he had just seen a ghost. "What's the matter Mr. Epstein?"

"Tha-that was Ed Sullivan. I was just on the phone with Ed Sullivan." He replied.

"And?" Paul asked with a hint of glee in his voice. They all knew he was a big man in America.

"_I Want to Hold Your Hand _just went to number in America. Ed Sullivan, the man who launched Elvis, he wants you to come and headline his show!" At this point, Brian was practically shaking. "Nothing could be more important than this lads. Nothing!"

The boys laughed hysterically and nearly leapt out of the booth. They whooped and hollered like mad boys danced and sang around in a huddled circle. Sam and Brian smiled at them proudly. _They finally made it. _

John picked up the bottle of champagne from the table and started shaking it. He stood on the bench. At this point, Brian was too proud to scold him. "Where're we going lads?" John asked.

The other three kept their arms around each other and responded in their best American accents. "To the top, Johnny, to the top!"

"And where's the top?"

"To the toppermost of the poppermost!

John popped the cork out, releasing the white foam everywhere. "WHOOOOOOO!"

And they really did make it to the toppermost.

* * *

**A/N: And that was chapter… umm… *checks files* chapter ten! Yes, that was chapter ten and thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it! Sorry there wasn't much Sam/George-ness in this chapter, it was more of a filler to set the tone for the next couple of chapters. So I'm sorry if it bored you! If some parts here seemed familiar, you're right, I did get it from real life. The last part was from _In His Life: The John Lennon Story _and Paul's boomf was from an interview if you're wondering. I wanted to post this chapter today because today is my birfday! Haha so here's my gift to you! Think of it as that little goody bag you used to get in elementary school whenever it was somebody's birthday. But anyways, thanks again for reading and reviewing the last chapter. Now please fulfill the second R in the abbreviation R&R (and no, I do not mean relaxation! But I guess you could do that as well.) Okay, I need to stop rambling, but please review! Question of the chapter: Funniest Beatle moment? Sources please! :D**


	12. Chapter 11

"_I've just seen a face, I can't forget the time or place where we first met. She's just the girl for me and I want all the world to see we've met…"_

* * *

Previously:

"_I Want to Hold Your Hand just went to number in America. Ed Sullivan, the man who launched Elvis, he wants you to come and headline his show!" At this point, Brian was practically shaking. "Nothing could be more important than this lads. Nothing!"_

_The boys laughed hysterically and nearly leapt out of the booth. They whooped and hollered like mad men. The boys danced and sang around in a huddled circle. Sam and Brian smiled at them proudly. They finally made it. John picked up the bottle of champagne from the table and started shaking it. He stood on the bench. At this point, Brian was too proud to scold him._

"_Where're we going lads?" John asked._

_The other three kept their arms around each other and responded in their best American accents. "To the top, Johnny, to the top!"_

"_And where's the top?"_

"_To the toppermost of the poppermost! _ _John popped the cork out, releasing the white foam everywhere._

_ "WHOOOOOOO!" _

_And they really did make it to the toppermost._

* * *

Sam coiled the phone cord around her finger as she waited for her call to pick up.

"Hello?"

The blonde's eyes lit up. "Bonjour dad!" She greeted.

"Oh Sam! Hi, how are you? You okay up there?" Matt had just finished work and got home.

Sam nodded, though he couldn't see her. "Yeah, it's just absolutely spectacular here. I wish you could have came with us."

A sad smile crept to Matt's face. He did miss her so. _At least she's okay by herself. _He thought. "Anything fun you've done so far?"

Sam began talking animatedly, explaining detail after detail. "…And then they had to record the songs in German! I didn't think they could pull it off, but they managed to. They sound so fluent."

"Ha. That's good."

"Oh and also the band is going to America! Ed Sullivan in New York called and said he wanted them on his show. He said that _I Want to Hold Your Hand _went to number one in America! Who knew the guys who accidently set the Jacobs' tree house on fire could pull something off like the US?" Sam laughed as she thought of the memory. She heard it was brought down instantly. Poor Timmy Jacob lost his zest for playing with his friends.

Matt's face fell. "So I'm not going to see you for what, three, four more weeks?" He said in a slightly disappointed tone.

Sam noticed his change in demeanor. "Of course not! We are going to come back before going on the big trip."

He heaved a sigh of relief. "I was beginning to think that this whole assistant job was taking my daughter away from me."

"Dad, don't worry. I'll be home before you know it and we'll have plenty of time to catch up."

Matt put the matter to rest. She was right. He had nothing to worry about. "Oh all right. Now really, how are you doing? If I'm getting a call from my daughter, I wanna hear about you, not somebody else's kid!"

"Well if you must know…" She said in her best American accent. "I did go shopping and buy lots of clothes. And just yesterday after their recording session we went to go visit the Eiffel Tower."

Matt remembered his gift. "Speaking of shopping, did you happen to put any charms on that bracelet?"

"Oh yeah. Yesterday, Ringo bought me an Eiffel Tower charm." She toyed with the charm using her free hand. "Not as good as yours, but still quite nice."

"And soon you'll get one from America too." Just then, Matt heard whistling from the kitchen. "Ooh, I better go. My tea's ready. I guess you can hear the pot whistling too."

"Yeah, and Mr. Epstein is calling me. I'll see you soon then dad."

"Love you."

"Je t'aime." She hung up the phone and left for the manager's bidding.

* * *

_First week of February 1964, US Tour_

A strong gust of wind blew as Sam stepped into the plane with Mr. Epstein. As soon as news got out that the Beatles were going to America, fans gathered that morning at the airport to see them off. If you were trying to speak to someone next to you it was a waste, as your words would be drowned out by the masses of screaming girls. Police held them off as best as they could but they might as well have been trying to stop an incoming tide. A few boys were sprinkled within the crowd trying to get a glimpse of the band as well or grudgingly waiting for their girlfriends to leave. If not possible, the screams went dynamic higher when the four lads from Liverpool made their way up the steps to the plane. Girls chanted "_We love you Beatles, oh yes we do!..._" and held up signs of their favorites. The boys gave a final wave and smiled for the cameras before heading into the plane. Once they were inside, workers took no time in latching the door closed.

"Cor, they've all gone mad out there!" John plopped into an empty seat carelessly. "Shouldn't those kids be in school or something?"

The blonde woman who had been walking behind him loudly cleared her throat. "Oh sorry." John put his stuff down and got up. He walked the woman to wear Sam was sitting. "Cyn, this is Samantha, our assistant. Samantha, this is my wife Cynthia." The two girls shook hands as John went back to his seat.

"Nice to meet you." Sam made a face at John. "You can just call me Sam. He knows I don't like it when _he_ calls me by my full name."

Cynthia smiled warmly. "So you're the famous Samantha Stratford they've all been talking about."

Sam blushed. "Well I don't know if they're necessarily good things, but yes, yes I am."

"My," Cynthia took a good look at Sam's face and held her chin motherly. "You have quite a beautiful complexion! So nice and clear!" She noticed Sam's surprised expression and retreated her hand. "Oh sorry. It's just that lots of girls, including myself, would kill for skin like yours!"

Sam relaxed. "Oh, why thank you."

"We should do something during the tour! The boys are going to be really busy you know."

Sam smiled. "Yeah, that'd be fun! We could visit the American shops. It's been so lonely being the only girl around here. I think Ringo's grown tired of my talks about soap operas." The girls laughed. _Finally! A companion who understands me! _

Cynthia turned around to see what John was doing. Her face fell flat. "John stop it!" She turned back to Sam. "I better go. I hate it when he digs through my stuff." Cynthia left to tend to her childish husband. "John, you put that back! It's important!"

Sam sat back down and put her carry-on in the vacant seat next to her. She was so excited. She had the urge to scream but controlled herself with all her might. She was going to America! The land of the free! From what the boys have told her, all the other British groups who went to the US flopped as fast as they got to the top. She guessed that waiting to go there until they had a number one hit was a smart move on their part. Who knows? Maybe they would be more popular than expected and be the start of something new.

So America they would be going! And New York if it weren't enough. _Where shall I go? _They were off to what people called "the city that never sleeps." She could spend the entire night out without being alone if she wanted to.

"I'll go to Broadway." She said to herself. It had been on her mental bucket list. She had seen movie versions of musicals but on Broadway it was supposed to be more magical. And now that Cynthia was here, she'd have someone to see the shows with! The tour was bound to be the best experience ever.

"Is this seat taken?" A voice asked, breaking her out of her reverie. She turned around to see George waiting in the aisle.

"Huh?" She looked down at the seat next to her. "Oh sorry." She removed her bag and put it next to her feet. "No, you can sit here."

George grinned. "Thanks." He put the bag he was holding in the overhead compartment. He bent down. "Do you want your bag up there too?"

Sam shook her head. "Nah. I've got stuff in here that I need to keep with me."

"Okay." George sat down and buckled up his seat belt.

Sam examined the other seating arrangements. Mr. Epstein sat next to Derek Taylor, the Beatles' press agent. They were in heavy discussion, probably about what was going to happen when they landed. Mal and Neil sat together playing cards quietly. Paul and Ringo were the loudest on the aircraft, laughing their heads off over some joke. John played with Cynthia's hair like a little kid while she ignored him and flipped through pages from her magazine. There was also the rest of the band's entourage, journalists and photographers, scattered about the plane.

Then it was back to the two of them. _It seems that the gods were on my side for this plane ride. _

"_Good afternoon Beatles and their friends, this is your Pan Am pilot Daniel White speaking. But just call me Danny._" Sam could practically see the pilot smiling through the intercom. "_Please buckle in your seat belts for take-off and keep them off until further notice. This is flight to New York is approximately seven hours and eleven minutes. Thank you for your cooperation!_"

Sam and George buckled in their seat belts. At that moment, the plane started shaking. "Ah!" Sam tightly gripped her arm rests on both sides while the plane slowly moved forward.

George kept his cool. "Nothing to worry about." He assured her. "The plane's just getting ready for take-off."

"Right." Sam nodded and relaxed her body, which she hadn't realized was so tense. "I knew that. I was just surprised, is all." _Way to go Sam. _The sarcastic voice in her head teased.

Suddenly the plane began speeding on the runway. Sam felt like she was going to hurl. "Is this supposed to be regular flight procedure too?" She asked over the turbulence.

"Yeah!" George yelled back with excitement. "Just watch. We'll be off in three! Two!"

Before he could get to one, the plane left the ground and went to the vertical. Sam squeezed her eyes shut. "This isn't normal, this isn't normal, this isn't normal, this isn't normal, this isn't normal! This isn't—"

"Sam?"

"What?"

"We're flying." Sam opened her eyes, ignoring the stares she was getting from everyone. _Now look at what you've done Sam!_ She slid the window shade up and looked out. They were miles above land and strolling through the clouds. The buildings and structures below looked like building blocks and the people were specks of black. Before she knew it, all of that was gone and also she could see was misty white.

Sam exhaled the breath she held unconsciously and slid down her seat. She looked up at George, who studied her face with a concerned expression. She smiled sheepishly. "Ah, sorry. Don't mind me." Sam sat upright. "It's just my first time on a plane. Actually, this trip is going to be a string of firsts for me."

"Nah, 's'all right. I was like that when it was my first time too. Only I couldn't scream my head off because I was sitting next to a stranger." George chuckled heartily, showing he was joking.

Sam had calmed down now and was open for conversation. "You've traveled by air before?"

George nodded. "Oh yeah. Actually, I've been to America before the guys and this will be my second time there."

"Really? So you'll be able to show me around when we get there?"

"Nah, the first time I went to America was last year, before we were 'famous.'" George answered with air quotes. "It was a good thing too, because I could walk around without being noticed. I went to visit my older sister and her family in this place called Benton, Illinois."

"Oh right, the different states, yeah?"

"Right. Illinois is way different from New York. Illinois is the country side while New York is the big city. Also, you never expect to find a celebrity in Illinois, now do you?"

Sam grinned. "Well if a fan just happen to have spotted you last year…"

"Me? A celebrity? As if. Psssh." George playfully swatted a hand Sam's way and laughed. "But anyways, New York is going to be a new experience for me too. I'll never know where I'm going. I'm good just as long as I don't lose the pack."

"We could get lost together!" Sam said mischievously as they began devising a plan on making the tour more fun. "We could just run away without telling anyone!"

George gasped melodramatically. "But what if Brian catches us trying to leave?"

"Then he'll kill us both!" She whispered in a horrified tone. The two started giggling as quietly as they could like little children in church.

"Aww, I wanna land already." Sam whined after their laughing fit. "I'm too excited!"

"Well, so am I, but you don't see me close to pissing my pants." George said. "Speaking of which, my sister's going to come down for a visit. She'll be there that night when we get to the hotel. So you'll get to meet her."

"Gear." Sam smiled politely. She had never actually met anyone in George's family except for his mom. _Another first. _

George unbuckled his seat belt, as the seat belt signal had gone off. "I'm gonna go get a snack. You want anything?"

"No, I'm fine. Thanks." George left to feed the growling beast that was his stomach.

Sam leaned against the window after pulling the shade down. _Seven hours, nothing else to do. Might as well get some rest so I'll be up and ready for the big city._

* * *

Something hard kept bumping Sam on the side of her head. "Sam? Sam?"

"Mmmm…." Sam groaned. _Stop bugging me and leave me to rest. _She thought, half awake. The bumping wouldn't stop.

"Sam." The voice whispered again. "Wake up."

"I am." She mumbled back. George kept shrugging her head up and down his shoulder, but the girl wouldn't budge.

Sam willed herself to get up. She fluttered her eyes open and looked around. Everyone was waking and limbering up in their seats.

"Aww, my neck is sore." She tilted her head to the left, causing her neck to crack loudly. "Oh, that was a good one."

George put his table up and chuckled. "You think you had it hard? Well your head isn't exactly therapeutic."

"Huh?"

"After I finished eating I went to sleep just like you and then I wake up, and find you here on my shoulder." George laughed. "I was wondering why I felt all unbalanced."

Sam blushed. _I even act like that in my sleep! _"Oh sorry."

"It's okay. At least you don't snore like Rings there." George tilted his head the drummer's way. "Anyway, I just thought you should look out your window right now. I think you'd enjoy the view." George said with a hint of glee.

Sam turned and lifted the window shade up. Her eyes were instantly as big as saucers. She could see the tops of the highest skyscrapers through the thin mist of clouds. The murky water below waded in and out, with a few boats floating to piers. As far as she could see, there wasn't an empty street in sight.

Her lips broke into a grin. "America."

"You better buckle up your seatbelt." George ordered. "We'll be landing in 10 minutes."

Sam obeyed and did the buckle quickly so she could return to the window. She was so fascinated by her surroundings that she forgot her fear of flight. She ignored the low hum within the plane which turned into full out chatter as everyone was anxious to land. The plane flew gradually flew lower and lower and its proximity with land became closer and closer. The JFK Airport runway was in sight and soon the plane collided with it, causing the passengers to slightly jump from the bump.

Sam covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her screams. "We're here!" She said in a singsong voice and turned to George.

"Oh dear lord." George said in a frightened tone. His jaw dropped as he looked out the window.

"What?" Sam followed his gaze. She matched George's expression. "Snap."

Getting out there was going to be a nightmare. If their goodbye in London was outrageous, then this was ten times greater. It was like the entire teenaged girl population in America gathered right there at the airport. They crowded the upper balcony of the airport's arrivals building. They waved signs and banners to greet the band. George and the other guys didn't expect this kind of welcoming.

Sam playfully patted George on the moptop. "Good luck!" He swatted her hand away and cursed beneath his breath.

Everybody stood up while getting over the initial shock of the fans. Brian went to the front of the plane to give out orders. Though trying to keep calm, you could tell he was stressed. The vein in his neck was practically popping out. "Boys, you'll be going out first and following security after the plane comes to a complete stop and you see the stairs. The rest of us will follow suit. Move as fast as you can people, we don't want the police working harder than they have to."

The boys complied and left without questioning when workers wheeled the boarding stairs next to the plane. Sam watched as they plastered smiles on their faces and waved at the crowd, causing them to scream an octave higher. The girls' intense reaction from seeing the band was enough to start an earthquake.

Sam felt someone sit next to her. She turned. "Can you believe it?" Sam asked Cynthia in awe.

Cynthia laughed. "Trust me, if this was a dream, then my baby Julian at home would have been born potty trained!"

* * *

It took the band and their entourage forever to finally get to the hotel. Actually getting inside the airport took about a half hour as they were besieged by fans and reporters wanting their attention. That was followed by an hour long press conference in the airport lobby, which was impossible to do because no one could hear a thing. The boys must have done a good job though because the press just ate up whatever they said.

Flashback:

_Q: Are you a little embarrassed by the lunacy you cause?_

_John: No, it's great._

_Paul: No._

_Ringo: Marvelous._

_George: We love it._

_John: We like lunatics._

_Q: You're in favor of lunacy?_

_The Beatles: Yeah._

_John: It's healthy._

_Q: Are those English accents?_

_George: It's not English. It's Liverpudlian, you see._

_Paul: The Liverpool accent - so, the way you say some of the words. You know, you say GRASS instead of GRAHHSS, and that sounds a bit American. So there ya go._

_Q: Liverpool is the..._

_Ringo: It's the capital of Ireland._

_Paul: Anyway, we wrote half of your folk songs in Liverpool._

_Ringo: Yeah, don't forget!_

_Q: In Detroit Michigan, there handing out car stickers saying, 'Stamp Out The Beatles.'_

_Paul: Yeah well... first of all, we're bringing out a 'Stamp Out Detroit' campaign._

_Q: What about the Stamp Out The Beatles campaign?_

_John: What about it?_

_Ringo: How big are they?_

_Q: Would you tell Murray the K to cut that crap out?_

_The Beatles: Cut that crap out!_

_Paul: Hey, Murray!_

_Q: A psychiatrist recently said you're nothing but a bunch of British Elvis Presleys._

_John: He must be blind._

_Ringo (shaking like Elvis): It's not true! It's not true!_

_Q: Would you please sing something?_

_The Beatles: No!_

_Ringo: Sorry._

_Q: There's some doubt that you __can__ sing._

_John: No, we need money first._

_Q: What do you expect to take out of this country?_

_John Lennon: About half a crown._

_Ringo Starr: Ten dollars._

_Q: Does all that hair help you sing?_

_Paul McCartney: What?_

_Q: Does all that hair help you sing?_

_John: Definitely. Yeah._

_Q: You feel like Sampson? If you lost your hair, you'd lose what you have? 'It'?_

_John: Don't know. I don't know._

_Paul: Don't know._

_Q: How many of you are bald, that you have to wear those wigs?_

_Ringo: All of us._

_Paul: I'm bald._

_Q: You're bald?_

_John: Oh, we're all bald, yeah._

_Paul: Don't tell anyone, please._

_John: I'm deaf and dumb, too._

_Q: Do you know American slang? Are you for real?_

_Paul: For real._

_John: Come and have a feel._

_Q: Aren't you afraid of what the American Barbers' Association is going to think of you?_

_Ringo: Well, we run quicker than the English ones, we'll have a go here, you know._

_Q: Listen, I got a question here. Are you going to get a haircut at all while you're here?_

_The Beatles: No!_

_Ringo: Nope._

_Paul: No, thanks._

_George Harrison: I had one yesterday._

_Ringo: And that's no lie, it's the truth._

_Paul: It's the truth._

_Q: You know, I think he missed._

_John: Nope._

_George: No, he didn't. No._

_Ringo: You should have seen him the day before._

_Q: What do you think your music does for these people?_

_Paul: Er..._

_John: Hmm, well..._

_Ringo: I don't know. It pleases them, I think. Well, it must do, 'cause they're buying it._

_Q: Why does it excite them so much?_

_Paul: We don't know, really._

_John: If we knew, we'd form another group and be managers._

_Q: What about all this talk that you represent some kind of social rebellion?_

_John: It's a dirty lie. It's a dirty lie._

_Q: What do you think of Beethoven?_

_Ringo: Great, especially his poems. (Muttering to the others) I'm sick of that one._

_Q: Have you decided when you're going to retire?_

_John: Next week._

_Paul: No._

_John: No, we don't know._

_Ringo: We're going to keep going as long as we can._

_George: When we get fed up with it, you know. We're still enjoying it._

_Ringo: Any minute now._

_Q: After you make so much money, and then..._

_The Beatles: No._

_George: No, as long as we enjoy it, we'll do it. 'Cause we enjoyed it before we made__any__ money._

Right now they were getting into a limo to leave for the Plaza in Manhattan. Paul, Ringo, and John piled in the back seat. Sam sat at shot gun with George.

The blonde looked around frantically when John shut the door and the limo sped off. "Where's Brian? And the rest of us?"

"Brian, Mal, and Neil and all those other people on the plane with us are on different taxis to the hotel." Paul answered as they all looked around at the "lunacy."

"Oh I really should've gone with him. You know I just followed the first person I saw." Sam said worriedly. "You guys attract way too much attention!"

"Because we're the Beatles!" Ringo exclaimed.

"Well in the meantime," Paul fished his radio out of his coat pocket. "Let's listen to what's going on in the outside world." He fiddled with the dial until there was less static.

"_Well, I'll never dance with another, ooh, when I saw her standing there…_"

John gave a self-satisfied smirk. "We're what's going on in the outside world!"

They listened to a running commentary of their activity as they made their way to the hotel. If you thought about it, it was kind of creepy; people watching you're every move and broadcasting it to the world. _That's America for you. _George thought. _But that just means they like you._

The closer they were to the Plaza, the more fans and photographers they saw. George took note of it. "Oh Sam?"

"Hmm?"

"Look like you're doing something important-like." George said. "So if people see you, they won't be interrogating us. They'll just think you're an assistant, which you are haha. You know how the press can get when they see new people with us. Or a new girl for that matter." He could see them attacking them with questions right now. _Who's that girl? Which one of you is going out with her? How do you know her? _And so on and so forth.

"Oh okay." She knew what he meant. _He wants to know that I'm their assistant. Nothing more than the assistant. _Sam got out her journal from her bag and began writing about the experience so far. _So this is Beatlemania. _She was deep into her writing and thoughts when George began coughing uncontrollably.

She put the journal down and patted him on the back. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah Geo, you all right?" John asked.

"You've been coughing ever since we left the airport." Paul said.

"It's nothing." George assured them. "My throat is just dry. I guess it was from yelling over everyone too much at the press conference."

The guys shrugged it off and went back to listening to the radio. If George had a big problem, he'd tell them, so there was nothing to worry about. Sam dug through her bag.

"Here you go." Sam handed George a cough drop. "Just to be safe."

"Ta." George nodded and put it in his mouth. "You're always prepared when things go wrong."

Finally they got to the hotel. It had been a long day and a hectic one too. Once the limo stopped, they made a run for it before they could be eaten alive. Luckily they made it fast enough. If the police weren't there, they would've been done for. The fans who waited outside for so long were disappointed they couldn't meet their idols.

The hotel lobby was quieter than the chaos they created outside. The warm lull of conversation was much more comfortable. A few guests of the Plaza walked about. They were mainly older guests, so they ignored the group and their entourage.

"Just another teen fad." muttered a middle-aged man in a trench coat as he walked passed them.

The boys and Sam went to where Brian and their friends were. Sam sat next to Cynthia on one of the couches. It was safe to say they were now friends and would grow closer as the tour progressed. They bonded at the band's press conference and laughed at their jokes together. They got to know one another better.

"So how was the ride over here?" Cyn asked.

"Let's just say I wish I was riding with you guys." Sam said. "Actually, I should've taken your place! You're supposed to sit with your husband!"

Cynthia smiled mischievously and stuck her tongue out. "You snooze, you lose Sam!"

Brian cleared his throat. "All right, quiet down now guys." He was silent until he got their attention. "Okay, so we're waiting for someone to come. She's going to be your… how should I say this? She's going to be like your guide/manager while we're here in America. But that doesn't mean you can just disobey me. She's one of the people who helped organize this entire tour. So if you have any questions about America, questions about places to go, or whatever, just ask her."

Paul's eyes widened. "_She?_" Sam and Cyn gave each other the same "oh, _puh-leeease!_" looks and rolled their eyes. If the boys ever heard about a female being with them, they went aabsolutely bonkers. Luckily Cyn was here and she had John by the short leash.

Brian ignored Paul's excitement but answered him. "Yes, Paul. A _she_. And she should be here right about…" Brian turned around. He saw a woman coming from one of the lifts. "Oh! Here she is now!" He got up from his seat to greet the woman formally. They made idle chat before joining the rest of them.

The boys were practically sinking to the ground when they saw her standing there. Sam looked her over. She had straight brown luscious hair and piercing blue eyes. The woman looked to be about 24 or 25. She seemed so… grown up. So mature. She wore a white buttoned up blouse and a tight, black pencil skirt which brought out her curves perfectly. She also wore black stockings and heels. The black, square-framed glasses made her look smarter. Sam's first impression of her? She was smart, classy, elegant. But most of all: STUNNING.

"Hi," The beautiful woman greeted them with a friendly smile. "I'm Sophia Gallagher."

* * *

**A/N: Okay, snap you guys! That was so exhausting! I think my fingers are going to fall off. I think that's the longest chapter I've ever written! Trust me you guys, that took me a couple hours straight to write. I think I'll take a nap later. But anyways… Thank you for reading chapter 11! I hoped you enjoyed this action packed chapter. I think you guys have an idea of what's going to go on later now right? No? Okay, just wait for the next couple of chapters, everything will be clearer. I solemnly swear on Paul's bass! But just to give you guys a heads up, this story will be ending soon. I don't know how many more chapters I'm going to make, but I just know that everything will end in America. Just to let you guys know… But anyways (I happen to say that a lot, I noticed) thanks for reviewing the last chapter, now please do the same for this one! :D My face if you do.**

**Question of the chapter: Most adorable-est Beatle moment ever?**


	13. Chapter 12

"_It's been a hard day's night, and I've been working like a dog. It's been a hard day's night, I should be sleeping like a log. But when I get home to you I find the things that you do will make me feel all right…"_

* * *

Previously:

_The boys were practically sinking to the ground when they saw her standing there. Sam looked her over. She had straight brown luscious hair and piercing blue eyes. The woman looked to be about 24 or 25. She seemed so… grown up. So mature. She wore a white buttoned up blouse and a tight, black pencil skirt which brought out her curves perfectly. She also wore black stockings and heels. The black, square-framed glasses made her look smarter. Sam's first impression of her? She was smart, classy, elegant. But most of all: STUNNING._

"_Hi," The beautiful woman greeted them with a friendly smile. "I'm Sophia Taylor."_

* * *

For a moment, it was eerily silent and they just stared at Sophia. Sam couldn't take it anymore and nudged George in the ribs with her elbows, causing a chain reaction with another gulp.

"Hi Sophia." The boys greeted back like members in an AA meeting.

Sophia laughed. "Wow, for a second there I thought we were having a staring contest." The boys began laughing hysterically.

"Uh, okay." She said with a slightly scared voice, but regained her composure. "Well, like Mr. Epstein said, if there's anything you need to know or do during your stay, just ask me. I'm happy to help."

"I could give you some help." John muttered suggestively. Cynthia shot him a dirty look.

"But not right now, Ms. Gallagher is very busy." Brian said, embarrassed. The band wasn't quite up to par with behavior at the moment.

"Oh right!" Sophia remembered. "I need to see that your press conference will go smoothly tomorrow morning. I'll be off then." She started walking away but stopped to give them one last note. "My room is 1772, right under the penthouse, if you need anything."

"Did you know she set up our hotel accommodations for us?" Brian said once Sophia was gone. "She's quite something, isn't she?"

"Yeah." Sam squeaked, though she didn't know why. "She's something all right."

Brian began passing out room keys to everyone. "All right everyone, get your keys. Go to your rooms and unpack, freshen up. Do whatever you need too." Brian ordered. But we're meeting here in the lobby again in," He looked down at his watch. "One hour so we can all go to dinner together."

Everyone scatted about to different lifts, excited about getting to their rooms. The day had been hectic and they needed a break. The boys, Sam, and Cynthia followed Brian into one lift.

John was well aware of Cynthia's intimidating stare on the ride up. He turned to her. "What's the problem, Miss Powell?" He asked, hoping to get a chuckle out of her.

Cynthia rolled her eyes and looked away from him. "And to think you'd say that kind of stuff to others when I'm here too!"

* * *

The sun peeked through the interstices of the drapes. Though it was small, it was enough to wake Sam from her deep sleep. She craned her neck to see the bedside alarm clock.

_7:10. _Sam thought. _Better start making breakfast before the press conference. _She went grocery shopping in the market across the street from the hotel after dinner the night before.

Sam willed herself out of bed and got changed into day clothes before shuffling down the hall into the living room. She heard the clanging of pots and pans and smelled something good frying in the kitchen. Confused, she quietly went to go see who it was. _Who else would be up at this hour? _

Inside was a woman who looked to be in about her thirties. From her profile, Sam could see she had short blonde hair with a tufted fringe on the right side of her forehead. Her body was tall and skinny, much like one of the sleeping Beatles. She continued cooking, unaware of Sam's presence.

"Umm…hi?"

The woman turned around, startled by Sam's voice. "Oh, good morning." The woman greeted courteously. She had the same familiar British accent as they all did. "I'm just making breakfast before everyone wakes up."

She noticed that the confused expression hadn't escape Sam's face. "Oh sorry, it probably seems weird, me just popping in here without introduction." She stuck out a hand towards Sam. "Hi, I'm Louise."

Realization hit her. "Oh!" She returned the handshake. "You're George's older sister!"

"Yes, yes I am."

"He's told me all about you." This was surely George's sister. They had the same hollow bone structure, the same wide and gleeful eyes. "George told me you were coming late last night, but I must have missed you."

"No, it's all right. I actually came later than expected because my flight was delayed. Brian nearly went crackers when I called and said he had to pick me up in the late hours." She went back to tend to the food on the stove. "So to make it up to him, I thought I'd make breakfast."

"Oh, okay." She nodded. "Well I'm Sam, the band's personal assistant. Usually, I'd be making meals for them, but," Sam peeked over Louise's shoulder as she flipped a pancake over. "it seems you've got it all under control. Those pancakes look great."

Louise laughed. "I think this is only gonna be a one-time thing, Sam. I don't know how you can feed them everyday. The boys' stomachs are like bottomless pits."

"It takes me awhile to get them to stop eating." Sam smiled. "But in the meantime, is there anything I can help you with?"

Louise scraped the pancake onto the high pile next to the stove. She poured some more batter into the frying pan and picked at it with a wooden spoon. "Actually, can you wake everyone up? It's about time they eat something before the press conference."

"Sure thing." Sam nodded and began making the rounds. She stopped at the room Paul, George, and Ringo shared. John had a separate room with Cynthia.

"Guys wake up." She rapped on the door. "Wake up." Sam continued knocking, but to no response. Being the impatient one, Sam went into their room. The three snored soundly together on their beds. Paul and Ringo shared the queen bed while George had the twin to himself. She smiled evilly. _Now who to wake up first? _

Sam scampered to Paul's side of the bed. She shook his shoulders hard. "Paul wake up!"

Paul's long lashes fluttered. His eyes practically bugged out of his skull when he saw Sam. "Ah Sam!" He quickly raised the blanket over his bare shoulders. "I'm indecent!" His cheeks burnt a fiery red.

"Good morning to you, too." She teased. "It's time to eat breakfast. Plus you lot need to get ready for the press conference."

"I hate you." He groaned. Paul slowly dragged himself out of bed and made his way to the bathroom without another word. He quickly washed his face and hands and left the room afterwards.

Ringo had begun to wake up after Paul's outburst. He turned on his side to see Sam. "Paul's always the self-conscience bird, isn't he?"

"Affirmative." She giggled. "So yeah, I just met George's sister and she made you all breakfast and I think she would really appreciate it if you got your lazy butts up!"

"Yes, miss." Ringo chuckled and got up. He was about to leave when he remembered something. "Hey and when you wake up George, you should like check up on him or something. He was coughing all night last night." Ringo said with a concerned tone.

"Oh okay. I'll see what I can do."

Ringo pinched her cheek before leaving. "Nurse Sam. Hey, that doesn't sound half bad!"

Sam walked over to George's bed and knelt beside him. "George?" She shook him, lighter than she did to Paul. "Wake up."

"Mmm…?" George slowly woke up. His eyes first locked with Sam's worried ones.

"Hello." He said simply to lighten the mood.

That got a smile out of her. "How are you feeling?" She brushed back his bangs to and put a palm to his forehead. He closed his eyes again. "Ringo told me you were coughing all night." She placed the same hand on her own forehead. "Well you don't seem to have fever, so that's good."

"Me troat's just dry is all." He responded in a semi-raspy voice.

"No your throat is _really _dry is all." Her eyes widened. "The press conference is this morning. You won't be able to go because you wouldn't be able to talk."

George looked at her thoughtfully. "Well, I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing…"

Sam smirked. "Just for that, I'm making Mr. Epstein make you go to the press conference for sure."

"Please don't! I'll be a good boy, I promise!" He squealed with all the voice he could muster.

She shushed him. "Don't talk too much. We want to preserve your voice tomorrow. Ed Sullivan wouldn't stand for it if he was one Beatle short on his show." Sam tucked the blanket higher over him. "I'm always having to play doctor with you, you know?"

George laughed softly. "Playing doctor. You do know what that means right?"

Sam cocked her head to the right and looked at George with a puzzled expression. "It means there's always something wrong with you and I'm always running in to the rescue?"

Her naïveté made the Beatle laugh even harder but he stopped when it began to hurt his throat. "No, no." He whispered before laughing again. "But nevermind."

She shrugged. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you." Sam scratched her chin and furrowed her eyebrows. _He has to go the press conference today. It wouldn't be a Beatles press conference without all four of them. _"Say, do you like orange juice?"

George looked disgusted. "Eww, no! That shit tastes like shite!"

"Well, you could just say no." Sam said. She sat on the edge of his bed next to his feet. "How's about this? I'll bring you some breakfast to eat in bed like a little princess." She laughed at his face when she said that. "By the way, I just met your sister before I came here."

George smirked. "Rotten thing, ain't she?" He said jokingly.

Sam grabbed a pillow and threw it at his face. George dodged it and it hit the headboard behind him. "She's nice! And she's making breakfast for everyone, so say thank you when you get the chance. Okay, so I'll just bring you breakfast, you spoiled little brat." Sam made a face at him. George gave her a toothy grin. "But you need to drink something. Water is gross in the morning after a meal. Ah-ha!" She snapped her fingers. "Do you like hot chocolate?"

He nodded vigorously. "Very much, yes!"

"So I'll just run across the street and buy you hot chocolate from the vendor. I hear the ones over there are really good. Then while I'm there, I'll go to the market again and buy medicine." Sam looked at the guitarist for approval. "Does that sound like a plan?"

"Mm-hmm."

She got up and patted him on the shoulder. "All right, sit tight then. I'll be right back."

Many people occupied the living and dining room when Sam got back. Louise was still in the kitchen cooking. John, Cynthia, George, Ringo, Derek, Mal, and Neil sat at the dining table eating their pancakes quietly and reading the newspaper. Music from the nearby radio played in the background quietly. Brian looked nervously in his pressed suit over some papers on the coffee table. That man would never be seen in PJ's by the rest of them.

Cynthia looked up. "Morning Sam."

"Morning." She greeted back. "I see everyone is up then."

"Where's George?" Louise asked.

"Well," Sam grabbed a tray off the counter. "He's a little sick."

Brian almost got whiplash when he heard what that. "George is sick?"

The boys and Cyn looked up from the paper.

"What are we gonna do?"

"What if he isn't well enough for the show tomorrow?"

"I can't play lead guitar, I'm a drummer!"

"Now, d-don't worry guys." Sam assured him before they could bombard her with any other questions. "He just has a sore throat. I was gonna bring him his breakfast in bed so that he can rest and then I was gonna run across the street to get medicine."

Brian calmed down a bit. "You think he'll be all right for the items on today's itinerary?"

Sam nodded. "I think so. As long as he gets enough rest and doesn't talk too much, he'll be fine."

Brian went back to his papers and the others went back to eating. "All right Samantha, as long as you take care of it."

Louise turned off the stove. She took the rest of the pancakes, a bottle of syrup, and a glass of water and put them on Sam's tray. "All right, let's go take these to the boy." When they got to his room, Louise knocked on the open door for his attention. "Delivery for Mr. Harrison!"

George looked up from his pillow. "Eww it's Louise!" He joked.

Sam rolled the bedside table so that it was accessible. Louise put the tray down. She playfully ruffled his hair and he shooed it away. "I'm telling mom!"

"She won't care!"

"Aww cute, you're fighting." Sam said playfully. "I'll be back then. Make sure he doesn't speak a word or off with his head!"

"But you haven't even eaten breakfast yet." Louise remembered.

"Uh…" Sam snatched a pancake from George's pile and took a bite. "I'll take this on the go."

George tried reaching for it. "Hey that's mine!"

"Now, now you're supposed to keep quiet remember?" Sam reprimanded. "Bye! I won't be long!"

* * *

"Medicine, magazine, hot chocolate. Medicine, magazine, hot chocolate. Medicine, magazine, hot chocolate…" Sam chanted under her breath while she scanned the aisles. She found some decongestant, cough medicine, and aspirin, just to be safe. Also some vitamin supplements. On the way to check out, she picked up a container of salt and the latest fashion magazine.

"Will that be all ma'am?" The cashier asked politely as he began ringing up her items.

"Huh? Oh yes, thanks." Sam paid for the items and left the store. She stopped at the vendor next to the shop and stood in the short line.

"What'll it be, miss?" The man inside asked. He had a thick Brooklyn accent.

"Uh…" She adjusted her beret, which kept slipping down her head. She looked at the sizes on the counter. "One medium hot chocolate."

He nodded. "One hot chocolate coming up." He grabbed a cup from under the counter and left her alone. He came back a couple minutes later with a steaming cup and put a lid on it.

Sam dug through her coat pocket for the exact change and gave it to him. "Thank you!" She turned and quickly ran across the street when it was time to go. Sam realized it was going to be impossible to get in. The place was surging with girls! The police stood guard in front of the revolving doors. She stood there for a couple minutes trying to figure out how she was going to get into the hotel. At one point, they started screaming a frequency higher.

Sam looked up. There was Lennon, waving out the window with that stupid smile. Something pulled him back inside and the window quickly shut close. _Meh, he must have seen me. He's gonna get it when I get up there. But how? _It didn't seem like the girls were going to move for a long time. She took a deep breath. "I guess I'll just have to push through."

She held the cup and bag closely to her chest and let herself be eaten by the crowd. Sam felt herself being jerked back and forth. It was a miracle that she even got to the front still intact. She walked up the steps.

"I'm sorry miss but you can't go inside." One of the cops told her with a stern expression. Many girls have tried getting pass their force. The first strike was a polite warning. "If you wanna see the boys, you'll just have to go watch Ed Sullivan tonight on tv.

Sam expected to be in this type of situation. Instead of leaving, she stood on her tiptoes and whispered something in his ear. Mr. Epstein knew these kinds of things would happen to. She didn't blame him. The police were just doing their job. Just so there wouldn't be too much trouble, Mr. Epstein gave the Beatles associates a password for getting into the hotel. That way police knew who was aloud in and out. Badges could get lost and anybody could use it. Mr. Epstein told the hotel manager to give the password to all the other guests so they wouldn't be caught up in the hysteria as well.

When the police officer heard the password, he nodded and opened up a little bit to let her in. Once Sam was passed them, the police immediately closed the gap. They were met by disappointed screams.

"_How come she could go and not me? I'm better-looking!"_

"_C'mon, just let me in! I know the Beatles!"_

"_I'm staying at this hotel! I just forgot the password!"_

Sam heaved a sigh of relief when she was inside. Outside was hell: it was cold and it was crowded. She didn't really complain much, but she really hated those two things in particular. Luckily the items were still okay. She made her way into a lift and pressed the button for the top floor.

"Wait, hold the door!" A voice called. Sam held the open button down.

Sophia walked in holding a clipboard. "Thanks." She pushed the button underneath Sam's.

"Hey, it's you!" Sam said.

Sophia hadn't noticed who the person with her was. "Oh hi!" She put her clipboard in her left hand and shook Sam's with her right. "You're Samantha, Brian's assistant."

Sam smiled and shook back. "Yeah and you're Sophia."

"Just call me Sophie. I never really liked "'Sophia.'"

"Okay Sophie. Nicknames keep popping up now these days." Sam laughed. "So is everything in the ballroom okay?"

Sophia nodded. "Yeah, the reporters and photographers are all there having some refreshments while waiting. Are the boys all set?"

"When I was up there, three of them were up and eating breakfast. George has a sore throat and that's why I had to buy these." Sam held up her bag.

Sophia looked concerned. "Oh no! Is he okay?"

"I'm sure he'll be fine." Sam replied. "He was able to talk a bit before I left. A little raspy though. I made his sister watch him while I was gone. He just needs all the rest he can get."

"Oh that's good." The elevator dinged. They were at Sophia's floor. The doors slid open. "The reporters are gonna wanna ask all of the Beatles questions."

"They'll probably have tons of questions to ask them."

"It's good to know George is okay. He _is _my favorite Beatle. Even if he is a bit younger, I'd do anything to get at least one date with him." Sophia giggled. "Look at me, I'm starting to sound like those pre-teen fangirls!" She stepped out. "Here's my stop. See you at the press conference!"

Before Sam could respond, the doors closed and the elevator started moving again. Suddenly, she wanted to be back out in the cold and the crowd again. At least with them, she'd have a chance.

* * *

"Hey, hey I'm back!" Sam returned to George's room. "Has the 'Quiet Beatle' been living up to his nickname?"

"Yeah, just look at him." Louise said. "He's just so anxious to speak." George was sitting up in his bed with his arms folded and a scowl plastered on his face.

Sam removed the tray from the bed and put it on the bedside table. "You'll be able to once we get you treated." She put the bag on his lap and rummaged through it. "Here it is." She took the salt and sprinkled a little into George's full glass of water.

"What are you doing?" Louise asked.

She stirred the water slowly. "The pharmacist at the store said if you gargle at least once an hour, it's supposed to relieve throat irritation or something." Sam looked at George. She took more things out of her bag as she named them. "I also got you vitamins, decongestant, cough medicine, and aspirin, in case it gets worse. Let's just hope it doesn't."

"Thank you." George croaked.

Louise grinned mischievously. "I think baby Georgie has had enough rest."

"No, I haven't."

"Yes, you have! I've been watching you for half an hour and you haven't moved a wink!" Louise pulled him out of bed and pushed him towards the bathroom. "Now go and get ready! You were supposed to be getting ready 10 minutes ago!"

"Tell Brian I don't wanna go." He muttered. George tried getting back to bed but Louise blocked him.

"No, you're well enough to at least sit down there and act like you're enjoying yourself. Think about the time and effort Brian put in to make this entire thing happen." Louise said.

They glared at each other for a moment before George spoke. "You were always good at guilt trips."

Louise smiled. "I know." With a final shove, Louise got George into the bathroom and closed the door before he could escape.

"And don't forget to brush your teeth! Your breath is deadly!"

* * *

George sat there miserably at the press conference. He tried looking alive and laughing along with the other boys but failed miserably. A reporter noticed and asked him if he was all right, sparking all of the other reporters to bombard him with questions on the matter.

"_How are you feeling George?"_

"_You think you'll be all right for tomorrow?"_

"_Hey, you don't seem so good. I think you should go see the doctor."_

"_Can you still belt it out with the others for the show?"_

"_Then who's gonna play for you on the show?"_

George was going to need the aspirin Sam got him if they didn't stop yelling over each other soon. "Hey I-I…umm really I'm fine." He whispered but they wouldn't stop. "I'm okay. Hey, uh, shhh…"

John, who was next to George, cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

"'AY SHUT UP!"

The room went silent. The reporters looked at him with various astonished expressions. The vein in Brian's neck began to protrude. John gave them all a big smile. "Thank you."

Attention went back to George. "I feel fine everyone." The reporters started scribbling down notes and leaned in closer to hear better. They kept quiet. "I just kind of lost my voice from yelling so much in the press conference yesterday." He whispered. "That's why I'm not talking so much. You don't have to worry, I'll still be on the show tomorrow playing it out with the rest of them." George jabbed his thumb towards the rest of the band.

Sophia took one of the microphones from the table. "Thanks everyone for coming. That'll be all of the questions for today. The photo opportunity will be in Central Park in," She looked down at her wristwatch. "In an hour and a half."

The reporters gave them a round of applause as they left for the hotel rooms. The ride in the elevator was slower than usual. Paul fiddled with his transistor radio until he found WINS. Murray the K's voice bounced off the elevator walls.

"_That was the Fab Four with Please Please Me! Don't forget to tune in tonight at 6 where I get to interview the Beatles over the phone and maybe even become the fifth Beatle._" That got a laugh out of all of them in the elevator except for one. "_Also, I'll be giving away four tickets to see the Beatles tomorrow on the Ed Sullivan show. The next Beatles trivia question to win the tickets will be revealed after the interview so keep listening. This is will only be for those living in the Big Apple area, so if you don't, I'm sorry. There's always—_"

"Paul, can you please turn that off?" George closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Paul turned it off and the elevator went quiet again. He looked at his younger friend apprehensively. "George, don't lie to us. How do you feel?"

"Shitty." George croaked bluntly. "I feel like my brain's going to explode if all the noise doesn't go away. My throat feels like it's on fire."

John put his hand on George's forehead, much like Sam hand done earlier. "He's burning up! Eppy he can't come to Central Park with us. He's sick!"

"Come to think of it, you do seem a bit pale Geo." Ringo observed.

"But I can't just cancel the photo shoot." Brian said. "The photographers will all be there and waiting."

"Forget the fuckin' photographers Eppy! Can't you see that George is sick?" John swore. He couldn't believe that Brian was doing this. It wasn't all about the press, you know.

George, who hadn't been speaking, finally broke his silence. "Brian, I don't think I'll be able to make it to the photo shoot."

"But George, like I said I can't—"

"You don't have to cancel the photo shoot." George interrupted. "I just won't be there."

"We'll be one Beatle short."

"If the reporters do ask, tell them I am sick. But also tell them I'm getting some rest so I can perform tomorrow."

"George, we don't have to go on tomorrow." John said. "You need to get better."

"No, we came to America to be on Ed Sullivan." George answered. "We aren't going to let a bloody cold get in the way after all the hard work we put in to get here. If you want me to feel better, please just do as I say."

"Okay." Ringo said disappointedly. He didn't want his friend to get any worse but George was persistent.

"Is there anything else you want us to do?" Brian asked as the elevator dinged and opened up to their floor.

"Yes." George stepped out and left before everyone else. "Please call a doctor."

* * *

"I'm beat." Louise propped her feet up on the coffee table and closed her eyes. "It's been a really long day."

"Then take a nap." Sam said next to her.

Louise turned to look at Sam. "But what about George? He's gonna be coughing on and off in his sleep."

"You can sleep. I'll look after him." Sam answered. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"Oh all right." Sam got off the couch so Louise could stretch out on the couch. She was out like a light in no time.

Sam walked passed George's room to go to the bathroom when she heard,

"Sam, are you there?"

Sam peeked inside George's room and turned on the light. "What are you doing up? Get some rest."

"I know but can you get me some water?" George whispered, but loud enough for Sam to here.

"'Kay." Sam came back a few minutes later with a glass of water. She sat on the chair next to his bed and handed it to him.

George sat up so he could drink. "Thanks."

"Yeah no problem."

They didn't talk for a couple minutes while George finished his glass. He gave the glass back to Sam and sighed.

"The doctor said I had streptococcal sore throat, whatever that means. But he also said won't be playing tomorrow because I have a temperature of 104." He looked up, as if watching his dreams fly away. "I wonder how I'll tell John, Paul, and Ringo. I told them I'd make it, but now I can't."

"We aren't telling them anything." Sam's expression went from sympathetic to determined. "I'm going to get you better like the doctor said so you can play tomorrow."

George had a small smile. "You'll fix me up and make me all better?"

"Whatever it takes so don't you worry." Sam stood up. "Just call me Nurse Sammy!"

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys! Haha… I'm not dead. Yeah, seeing each other after a while is kinda awkward. But this meeting won't because I'm back and I'm happy to see you guys again. Well, not actually **_**see **_**you, but you know what I mean. Sorry I've taken way too long to post this. School has been a pain in the ass, especially the last couple of weeks with finals. But I'm back and here to stay 'cause it's finally summer! Yay! How've you guys been? I hope you're still here. Thank you for reading this chapter and reviewing the last! Oh yeah and don't forget to read the collab i'm working on with Angee Skywalker, _Dear Prudence._ Now, can you please do it again for this one? Pretty please with a George on top?**

**Beatles question of the chapter: Since I had some Beatles bromance in this chapter, what is your favorite bromantic Beatles moment? And for those of you who don't know what a bromance is: **_**Bromance-**__**Describes the complicated love and affection shared by straight males.**_


	14. Chapter 13

"_I don't want to kiss or hold your hand. If it's funny try and understand there is really nothing else I'd rather do 'cause I'm happy just to dance with you…"_

* * *

"_The doctor said I had streptococcal sore throat, whatever that means. But he also said won't be playing tomorrow because I have a temperature of 104." He looked up, as if watching his dreams fly away. "I wonder how I'll tell John, Paul, and Ringo. I told them I'd make it, but now I can't." _

"_We aren't telling them anything." Sam's expression went from sympathetic to determined. "I'm going to get you better like the doctor said so you can play tomorrow."_

_George had a small smile. "You'll fix me up and make me all better?"_

"_Whatever it takes so don't you worry." Sam stood up. "Just call me Nurse Sammy!"_

* * *

It was 8 pm. She told him to go to sleep a while ago but he was stubborn. Sure, he wanted to be well enough for the next day but on the other hand he wanted to just soak in the moment of being there. He didn't want to go to sleep because then he'd have to wake up from this dream. This unrealistic dream.

The two of them sat on the couch watching the telly, nonchalantly sipping their cups of tea in silence. It wasn't an awkward silence, but a comfortable silence. The fireplace crackled softly and gave the room a warm glow. Outside was cold and windy, making it even better to stay inside. George looked like a silkworm, all wrapped up in a blanket. Sam sat cross-legged in her pajamas next to him. The whole thing was like a scene out of a Christmas card.

Everybody else had gone out for dinner and thought it was best if George stayed inside. He had gotten a bit better; earlier he had sweat off his fever by swaddling himself in thermal blankets and taking a nap on a heating pad, like Sam instructed. When he woke up, he was drenched from head to toe, but the fever had gone down. Though his body felt weak and he still had a sore throat and cough. His mood had definitely lightened up.

Sam glanced over at him as he watched tv. She couldn't help but smile at the moment. _Look at me. Look at us! A year ago he would have wanted to claw his eyes out for being in the same room as me. But here we are now, watching the telly together and enjoying each other's company. We've come such a long way._

They were watching an episode of _The Judy Garland Show_ from the week before. A group called Kirby Stone Four was singing a duet of _Whisper _of Judy.

"American music is really something." George said thoughtfully. His eyes were glued to the tv. "This group has perfect harmonies. It's like a breath of fresh air. And Judy Garland has such a deep, rich voice. One with a lot of experience."

"She was in the _Wizard of Oz _when she was younger." Sam replied matter-of-factly.

"Oh yeah, I remember. I think I watched it on Christmas once when I was younger." George said and looked at her. "Is she your favorite singer?"

"I like her but she isn't my favorite."

"Then who is?"

Sam scrunched her eyebrows in deep musing. "Barbra." She finally said.

"Barbra?"

"Yeah, Barbra Streisand." George looked at her blankly. "You mean you've never heard of Barbra Streisand before?"

George shook his head. "I guess I've heard of her off of one of Louise's records before when we were younger…"

"You should just go kill yourself!" George backed away from her in his seat and looked at her, surprised. _What a mouth! _Sam smiled shyly. "Oh sorry. It's just that she's my favorite! More people should know her!"

George looked at her with a mock-hurt expression. "Does that mean the Beatles are no longer your favorite?"

"The Beatles will always have a special place in my heart." Sam cooed and placed a hand over her heart.

"You make me blush." George batted his eyelashes at her.

"But really, I'm surprised you've never heard of her. She already has three albums out, but I only have the first two. She sang one of her songs with Judy on her show last year and they killed it! It was a mash-up of Barbra's _Happy Days are Here Again _and Judy's _Get Happy. _You'd think those two songs would be a disaster together but it was just wonderful. Their voices went together perfectly." Sam rambled on. "And Barbra! She has a show right now here on Broadway. It's called _Funny Girl. _It's about the life and career of Fanny Brice."

"I don't know who that is either, but I'm sure it's good." George smiled. "You seem to know a lot about her."

"I told you, she's my favorite!" Sam scoffed. "Honestly George, there's more to life than just rock 'n' roll."

"Oh?" George raised an eyebrow and leaned forward on his elbows. "Tell me about it."

Her eyes practically sparkled at the license to gush. "Well there are so many Broadway musicals that have even spawned some great movies! Take _West Side Story _for example…"

* * *

"…And don't forget to smile because the family said they're watching back home."

"'Kay."

"Are you sure you don't want to drink water before going on?" Louise asked while straightening out his collar.

"Yeah, I told you already I'm fine Lou."

Louise gently patted George's head. "Oh wait, you got some hair sticking up."

"Stop it, I'll do it myself." George swatted her hand away.

"Wait, I'm almost done just—"

"I'll do it myself."

"It's still there, I see it."

"I'll go in the bathroom!"

"But you're gonna be on soon!"

"Louise!"

"Fine!" Louise took her hand away. "You get a number one hit and suddenly you have the right to tell people what to do."

"Actually, it's you get a number one hit and an opportunity to be on the Ed Sullivan show where you can tell people what to do." George quipped and went to the bathroom.

They were all backstage, watching the show on the room's tv. The band would be on in about 15 minutes. Ringo sat next to Sam on the couch.

"Hey."

"Hey." She looked away from the tv and at him. "You nervous?"

"Me?" Ringo pointed at himself. "Nooooo! Never!"

"Don't worry, you can tell me. I understand if you are. The stage manager told me when he checked, there were about 50 million people watching at home and it's expected to grow when you guys are on."

"Gosh when you put it that way, I kinda don't wanna go on anymore."

Sam smiled bashfully. "Sorry."

He rested his arm on the couch, behind Sam. "It's okay, I'm just the drummer."

She gave his arm a squeeze. "The greatest drummer in the world, that is!"

John and Paul joined them. "It's almost our turn. Are you guys as excited as I am?" Paul said as he bounced next to Sam.

"I feel sick." John muttered.

"What was that John?"

"I said I feel sick." He repeated louder. "I think I'm gonna hurl."

"Bet he caught it from George." Ringo chuckled.

John shook his head. "No, it's not that it's—"

"Wait, I know, you have stage freight!" Sam realized and pointed. The look on his face was obvious. He was scared to go out!

He stood up. "Sam, you better shut up or I'm gonna—"

"Whoa, take it easy!" Paul stood up and held John back. "John, it's no big deal having stage freight. Lots of people get it."

John sat back down and started hyperventilating. The closer their appearance got, the heavier the breathing. "What do you know Paul? You're Mr. PR. You're not afraid of anything."

"Just do what I do whenever I have to do public speaking and I'm nervous." Sam said. "Move around a bit to release some of that pent up energy."

"Yeah, yeah." John breathed and stood up. "Yeah, I can do that."

"Hey boys. And Sam and Louise." Mal came in. "Brian said to get out there already and set up because Ed's gonna introduce you soon."

"Oh no!" John panicked.

Paul pushed him towards the door. "Don't worry buddy, I'll help ya through it." He consoled as they left.

"He'll be fine." Ringo shook his head and chuckled. They both got up. Ringo stuck out the side of his face to her. "Kiss for good luck?"

"Or the kiss of death." Sam joked before pecking him on the cheek. "Do good now! Make me proud of you!" Ringo ran out of the room.

"Ay, where's the other Harrison?" Mal asked.

"Right here Mal." George came out of the bathroom. "What's up?"

"The others have already gone out to set up." Louise answered.

"All right." George grinned and adjusted his jacket. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck." Louise and Sam said in unison.

George reached for the door handle when the door suddenly opened. Sophia walked in with her "handy-dandy" clipboard and a headset. "Ah, sorry George, didn't see you. You better head out, the others are already there."

"Yeah, I was just leaving."

"Hey," Sophia held his arm and smiled. "Good luck out there."

George returned the smile. "Thanks." She kissed him on the cheek before he left.

"You guys should get to your seats too." Sophia said with a flustered smile. "Don't wanna miss the show."

"Yeah, Lou we better get going." Sam said in a slightly bitter tone. She grabbed Louise by the arm and pulled her out the door. She took big, fast strides down the hallway to the point where Louise practically jogged to keep up.

"Ay Sam, slow down a bit." Louise said as she sidled up next to her.

"No, we need to hurry before they start." Sam fumed. If possible, she went even faster.

"Just stop for a minute." Louise held Sam by the shoulders. She turned her around so Sam would be forced to look at her.

"I mean, he's your little brother, didn't you think that was gross?"

"I got used to that kind of stuff once he joined the band." Louise smiled sympathetically. "You're mad."

"Who wouldn't be? Public displays of affection are completely unacceptable no matter the degree of affection. Furthermore, if there were to be—"

"You're mad because you like him. Jealous even." Louise interrupted.

Sam's eyes narrowed. "And you know this because…"

"You tend to wear your heart on your sleeve." They completed together.

Sam nodded. "John says that about me a lot."

"It's okay. Don't worry about it. I'd even help you get George if you wanted."

"Are you serious?" She fought back the giggles. "He _is _your brother.

"Yes, but when I see him, girls are always throwing themselves at him. If I had to choose a girl with him, I'd pick you." They began walking again. "You're a good person Sam for fixing him up like you did. Plus it's hard finding a female in New York at the moment besides me who'll take care of one Mr. George Harrison without murdering him with hugs and kisses first."

"Thanks." Sam smiled up at her. _Louise is way too cool! _"I wish I had a big sister like you."

Feedback blared over the speakers, which sounded whatever was happening onstage. "_…And right after this commercial break is the moment you've all been waiting for: the Beatles!_"

Louise turned to Sam. "Let's go!" They sprinted down the hallway to the nearest exit into the theater. The walls seemed to have soundproofed the theater because when she opened the door, they were met with hysteria. Louise scanned the room and spotted two vacant seats at the front. "C'mon there are our seats." The two carefully walked down the red leather steps, doing their best not to get into the fans' way.

Once they got to their seats, a sign on the ceiling reading _Quiet on Set _lit up. Security guards in the aisles desperately tried calming the audience down. In a couple minutes, they succeeded and the room was quiet.

A man's voice blasted from above. "_Good evening ladies and gentlemen, tonight live from New York, the Ed Sullivan show! And now here he is, Ed Sullivan!_" Another sign on the ceiling lit up in red letters, reading _APPLAUSE._ The audience clapped while a few howled. Music played when the big man himself enter the stage.

"Now I see why people like this show." Louise whispered while they clapped. "Even the announcement gets you excited."

The clapping stopped when the _APPLAUSE _sign turned off. "Now yesterday and today our theater's been jammed with newspapermen and hundreds of photographers from all over the nation, and these veterans agreed with me that the city never has the excitement stirred by these youngsters from Liverpool, who call themselves The Beatles. Now tonight, you're gonna twice be entertained by them. Right now, and again in the second half of our show. Ladies and gentlemen, The Beatles! Let's bring them on."

His last sentence lost to the screams and claps that could no longer be contained. The cameras went away from Ed and focused on the four moptops in the unique setup: They were surrounded by giant arrows with a yellow tint matching the background. Ringo and his drum kit were mounted on top a platform above a platform so everyone could see him.

Paul counted off. "One, two, three, four, one!" The Beatles broke into Sam's favorite song off their second album, _With the Beatles. _A week ago when they were still in England and coming up with the set lists for each show, Sam had begged Paul to make _All My Loving _the first song in their first Ed Sullivan appearance. Begged, as in Sam was on her knees and gripping on Paul's leg (to which Paul had a difficult time walking for the next half hour) until she got a positive answer. He simply shrugged and said maybe, then told her to go away unless she wanted to come watch him poop in the bathroom.

It was different watching the show as someone who knew the Beatles rather than as just another fan. Sure, Sam had the same excitement as the rest of them (though she didn't show it.) But she also picked up on the band's mannerisms, their reasons for them, and the feelings behind them.

There was Paul for example. Sam had asked him before on why he was just so…happy and bubbly when performing.

"_The head-shaking, shiny eyes-widening, body-bouncing, and smiling just gets me going for the song." Paul answered while taking a drag of his cigarette. Then he smirked. "Plus it makes them all go wild."_ Judging by the never-ending electrified shrieks, it worked.

Then there was Ringo, who happily bobbed his head to the beat, not missing one on the skins at the same time.

"_It helps me keep up the rhythm." Ringo replied to Sam's question as he bit into an apple. _

Paul's yell, an introduction to George's guitar solo, brought Sam back to reality. She involuntarily grabbed Louise's hand and squeezed it. George had been nervous about the solo and thought he wouldn't get it right on live television.

"_But you got it perfect on the record and on the BBC." Sam reasoned as she flipped the current page on the magazine she was reading. "Why wouldn't you get it right? You're the one who thought of it."_

"_Yeah, but no one was watching me!" George whined. "I'm gonna mess up."_

_Sam put the magazine down and looked at him. "If you're that worried, just look at me and you'll be fine. They say when you're performing and you look at an encouraging and familiar face, the scare goes away. Do that and you'll be fine, okay?"_

_George nodded, finally at ease. "Okay."_

George made a face and quirkily bobbed his head as he cautiously picked the first couple of notes of the Nashville-styled solo. He looked up and down from the fret board to the audience, making sure he was playing the right notes while looking for that familiar face. When he finally spotted her, she gave him a thumbs-up and smiled. The nervous expression he attempted to hide was replaced with relief. He looked away and studied the audience. Each section he looked at screamed even louder than before. George joined Paul at the mic when finishing the last of it.

Sam and Louise exchanged the same impressed countenance. Sam squealed. "He did it!"

Paul and George sang the chorus together, something they rarely did which made it why the song was Sam's favorite. She looked over at one of the cameras filming when George went back to John. John looked straight ahead, attention aimed at the audience. He seemed so comfortable with the moment that she wouldn't have guessed he had stage freight. Maybe Paul had said something to calm him down a bit. She liked the way George would sometimes look passed John and at the camera, making it seem like he was looking straight at you. The girls at home must have gotten a great kick out of it.

Soon the song was over and crowd went crazy again. The noise practically shook the theater enough to bring the whole place down when the boys bowed. By the end of that song, Sam found herself screaming along with the rest of them.

"Sam, stop it!" Louise pulled her back in her seat. "You're embarrassing me!"

* * *

"Hey let's dance!"

It wasn't a question. It was more of a command. Ringo grabbed her hand and pulled her up from the seat. Seeing as they were already halfway to the dance floor, Sam went along with him. Actually every spot the club that wasn't a place to sit or drink was the dance floor.

"Umm, okay." It was the Peppermint Lounge: the most happening club in New York at the moment. The fact that the Beatles and their entourage were there might have influenced that title. As soon as the two of them got up, almost every girl there flocked to the dance floor, hoping to get a chance to dance with a Beatle.

Ringo twirled Sam around as the girls inched closer to them. They twisted and moved to the beat. Coincidentally the band in the club was playing _Money. _Sam began laughing hysterically when Ringo stepped on her foot.

"Sorry!" He apologized. "Two left feet you see!"

Sam wasn't oblivious. She could see that the other girls were trying to "bump" and out her away from Ringo. After a couple more minutes of following his lead, Sam told Ringo she was tired and went to sit back down. _Might as well give them a night to remember. _She thought. The girls were more rambunctious than before; it was as if Sam had thrown Ringo to a pack a lions.

"Seems like he's having fun, ay?" Paul said, next to her and nodded toward Ringo.

Sam nodded. "Really milking in the moment." Ringo had joined in some sort of dance with the group around him. A girl with crazy cat eyes eyeliner would count off and do a move. Everybody else, including Ringo, followed along. The girls near him danced their way around each other to get closer to Ringo. The band bounced along to the music. The sight was just insane.

The night seemed endless. The boys were high on the reception from the show earlier that day and showed no signs of slowing down. It was unbelievable that they went back to their rooms at four in the morning. At least nothing was planned for them the next day. Or so a certain blonde on the trip thought.

At some point, Sam found herself starting to fall asleep in her seat. It was already 2 am and it seemed like no one was going to turn in soon. She closed her eyes and rested her head back. It didn't matter. Everybody was too busy dancing, drinking, and mingling to see that she was beat.

Somebody plopped right next to her. "It's improper to sleep in public you know."

Sam knew who the voice belonged to but fluttered her eyes open to make sure. "I'm tired Cyn and no one is leaving." She closed her eyes again but kept talking. "Where'd John go?"

"Getting us some drinks." Cynthia replied. "Do you want one?"

She shook her head. "I'm good."

Sam was about half-awake. She could hear the music and conversations around her but it all mixed into an incoherent blur. They sat there in silence just watching the scene; Cynthia was, at least. Everyone was having a great time. She spotted Ringo talking intimately with the bird he picked up earlier. John shared a laugh with the bartender holding their pints. Heck, even Brian let loose on the dance floor with his tie undone. But someone was missing.

Cynthia looked to her right and saw Sophia talking up George. George would awkwardly sip his drink and nod, agreeing with whatever Sophia said. Cynthia rolled her eyes. Even though George was a grown up now, Sophia flirting with him seemed _so _wrong. He was 21, she was 25. It was like she was flirting with a little kid. Maybe it was the fact that she'd known George for a while now or that she knew he could do so much better (I mean, c'mon, she's almost on top of him for all the press to see!) but Cynthia felt that whatever she was doing to George should stop.

Cynthia thought fast. "George!" She called out.

"Huh?" George saw Cynthia calling him. "Sorry Sophie, gotta go!"

"But I—"

"Bye!" He quickly went over to where Cyn and Sam were. Quite frankly, he was happy to be away from Sophia. She was starting to scare him. "What is it Cyn?"

"Could you occupy Sam here for me?" She motioned to the still girl next to her. "John's taking too long with our drinks and Sam's falling asleep."

"Uh, yeah sure. I guess?" Although he didn't know why he had to look after her. The club was relatively safe. But he did anyway.

"I'll be right back." Cynthia left for the bar's direction.

"Take your time!" George replied. He looked down at Sam. Boy, was she knackered. He grinned evilly though she didn't see. It was the perfect time to annoy her.

"Hey Sam…"

"Mmm?"

"Let's go dance." He said, adding in a poke to her ribs.

"Stop it." She mumbled and turned on her side. "I'm tired."

"What's that Sam? Yes, you would _love _to dance with George Harrison? Well if you say so." Before she knew it, George stood up and yanked on her arm. He dragged her along to the dance floor.

"I don't want to…" She protested and attempted to pull them the other way.

"I'm sorry, but I can't hear you. You should stop mumbling." He went on. Sam glared at him sleepily. _Is he trying to get me to reach my boiling point?_ "We're just going to keep dancing if you're not gonna make sense."

Then something clicked in her brain and Sam was wide awake. The room was hushed and the mood was mellow, as opposed to before. That's because everybody was _slow dancing. _The band no longer blared out popular tunes. Instead, the saxophone player crooned lovely melodies with the band playing softly in the back.

But most of all, George's hands held the small of her waist.

"It's—I—we—" She stuttered.

George chortled. "You're mumbling again. Guess we'll have to keep dancing until I can understand what you're saying." He pulled her closer into a hug and swayed them to the music.

She was tongue-tied. She didn't get the motive behind all this. It was all too weird. _Why would he do this?_

"_Quit complaining and just be thankful for the moment!" _The voice in her head scolded.

Sam just shrugged and leaned her head on his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He rested his head on top of hers. _I guess this isn't necessarily a bad thing. _She closed her eyes and listened to his steady heart beat. She wanted to stay like that forever.

"Hey, we should all start going back to our rooms and sleep already." George said. She felt his chest vibrate against her cheek. "We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

"It's okay, I'm not _that _tired anymore." Sam beamed uncontrollably and looked up at him. She was sure she was blushing but at the moment, didn't care a wink. "Why what is going on tomorrow? What are we doing?"

"You mean you really don't know about tomorrow?"

She shook her head. "No, not that I've heard of. Why? What are we doing?" She asked again.

George just smiled and put his head back on top of hers while they kept dancing. "Good. That means everybody knows how to keep a secret." He looked back down. She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. He playfully tapped her on the nose. "Don't worry about it. You'll just have to wait and see."

* * *

**A/N: And that was chapter 13! Yay! Woohoo! Boo-yah! Took a little bit longer to put up than I expected. And it's cornier that I expected. Sorry if this chapter was a bit corny and cliché. I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter and it wasn't a complete waste of your time. Thank you for reading it. But now, I have some important news for you guys. Seeing as this story came out as I planned (the plot and everything, blah blah blah) I have come to the conclusion that there will be two or three more chapters to go; most likely two more chapters. Like I said, it'll end in New York, but (spoiler!) there will be an epilogue. So don't you all worry! Also, I have another Beatles fanfic in the works. You're gonna start getting sick of me. Meh, I know: "Slow the butt down and stop already!" I just can't stop typing! Ahh! I'm rambling again. What was I talking about? Oh right: So there will be two or three more chapters left to this story and I'll have a new one coming up soon. Hmm… I could have said that in fewer words, could I? Oh well. Thank you for reviewing the last chapter and please review this one!**

**Question of the chapter: Not a Beatles question this time (sorry! I'll do it for the next chapter, I promise!) Actually, it's sort of a game. Virtual cookies for anyone who can guess which TV character Sam is modeled after. *Hint* It's a FOX show. **


	15. Chapter 14

_"Many, many, many nights go by. I sit alone at home and I cry over you. What can I do? Can't help myself, 'cause baby it's you." _

* * *

"_You mean you really don't know about tomorrow?"_

_She shook her head. "No, not that I've heard of. Why? What are we doing?" She asked again._

_George just smiled and put his head back on top of hers while they kept dancing. "Good. That means everybody knows how to keep a secret." He looked back down. She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. He playfully tapped her on the nose. "Don't worry about it. You'll just have to wait and see."_

* * *

Sam giggled as she followed Brian into their car. "I've asked you a gazillion times already and you still haven't given me a clear answer: Where are we going?"

Brian slid into his seat and smirked. "And I've told you a gazillion times already: It's a secret!"

"Why would you keep a secret from me?" Sam pouted and widened her eyes at him. "I'm a good person."

He playfully pushed her face away and motioned at their seatbelts which they both buckled. "I'm not of liberty to tell you."

She frowned. "What's up with the secrets? It seems like everyone knows about it except for me. Is it like a surprise party? Because my birthday is three months away."

"No, no." Brian motioned for the driver to go. "Just be patient. You'll find out soon enough."

"I mean, you don't need to tell me the event. You can just tell me where we're going. That way I know I look appropriate." She looked down at what she was wearing. She wore a white knee-length dress with blue wavy designs and a blue cardigan over. She also had on white flats to match. The weather was nice out so she no longer needed to bundle up as much. "You told me to 'just look nice' which isn't really specific."

"Don't worry, you look fine. Where we're going, nobody will even see you."

"Fine." Sam huffed. She was hoping he'd accidentally slip in the destination with his reply.

"Also, I'm told you have to wear this." He reached inside his jacket and took out a handkerchief.

"Are you serious?" Sam looked at him in disbelief. "I thought I was going out with everybody somewhere, not getting kidnapped."

"They said that you aren't supposed figure out where you are until you get there." Brian answered, trying to memorize the order.

She raised an eyebrow. "And who exactly is 'they'?" She had a feeling it was George after that whole conversation the night before. But then again, he did say that everybody else was in on the secret, so somebody else could have told him about it. She still didn't get why the secret was kept from her.

_George. _The night before had been perfect. It was like something out of a romantic comedy. The couple jokes around. Then a slow song begins to play. Girl is shy as to what to do about it. Boy is the cheeky one and pulls the girl closer. The two then danced the night away. She hadn't spoken to him since they parted ways to go to their rooms after coming back from the Peppermint Lounge. Everyone was told to "eat breakfast at their own time" because they were all in such a hurry to go to who knows where. _I wonder what George will say when we do see each other. Act differently? Pretend like last night had never happened? _She sighed. Where Sam stood with George was so confusing now that they were older.

"Sam?"

"Huh?" She shook herself. "Yeah?"

"Please just wear this." Brian begged. "I'm just following orders. Nothing will happen."

It was killing her that she didn't know who the big boss in the situation was. But she did as she was told. "Oh, all right." Brian took the handkerchief and wrapped it around her eyes tight.

"Can you see anything?"

Sam tried peeking underneath but he did a good job. "No."

Brian put up his hand. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Two?" She guessed. "I don't know. I really can't see anything."

"Okay, good. Just stay like that. We're almost there." Brian said.

The rest of the ride was silent. Sam tried remembering the paths around the hotel but after a while, it just seemed like a never-ending course of twists and turns. Soon the car came into a complete stop. She heard the driver in the front open and slam his door close. He must have been the one to open the door for her because she could still feel Brian's presence next to her. The driver took her hand and guided her out of the car.

"Watch your step for the curb." Sam heard the driver say.

"I can't really watch where I'm going when I'm blindfolded." She giggled.

"Oh right, sorry about that miss. Just take big step and," She scooted herself toward the end of the seat and moved her foot around to feel for pavement. Sam felt for the driver's shoulders and hoisted herself onto the sidewalk. "There. You're good to go."

"Thanks."

She felt Brian come out behind her. She heard the door shut and footsteps click on the pavement. They died down and were replaced by the car's engine. Sam felt a gust of wind as the car whooshed passed her and left.

Brian put a hand on her shoulder. "C'mon, everybody else are already here." He took her hand with his other and led her. She took small, cautious steps, feeling as though she would bump into or trip over something if she walked too fast. Brian seemed to read her mind. "It's okay, I'm right here beside you."

They took a couple more steps forward until they stopped again. Brian let go of her hand. "Mr. Epstein?" No answer. She flailed her arms about to reach him but nobody was next to her anymore. She hadn't even heard him leave. She couldn't see it, but a man walked passed her and saw the predicament she was in. Sam only heard his laughter but could just picture the look on his face. Sam crossed her arms. She felt stupid all blindfolded and by herself. People around her were probably laughing silently to each other or waving their hands in front of her face as a joke. She was the joke. Sam couldn't believe Brian just left her like that.

It was funny. From what she could hear, she was really all by herself, except for the usual New York passersby. It made sense that she couldn't hear screaming or the regular chants of a Beatle's name, because they weren't here with her. They were probably inside or something. She knew she was still outside from the sound of the cars.

"Sorry for the wait miss." Sam turned in different directions to find the voice. The man who spoke turned her to face him. "We just had to make sure everything was going as planned first."

Sam recognized the voice. "Ringo?"

"I'm not Ringo, miss."

She rolled her eyes under the blindfold but played along. "Right. Well where is everybody?"

"They're already inside." The man answered. "I'm here to escort you up there."

"_Up _there?" Sam said incredulously. "You mean there are stairs?"

"Yep." The man replied as if it was the easiest thing to do.

"Well I can't walk upstairs like this." Sam pointed to the handkerchief.

"Again, that's why I'm here." The man bent down, wrapped his arms around her legs, and picked her so she'd fall over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The change in altitude and the shaky movement frightened her. Though she knew her escort, not being able to see what was happening to her was a scary experience.

She felt the man trudging up steps. Sam couldn't help but let out a snicker. The man was just hauling her away as if it was the most normal thing in the world while people probably stopped and stared at the sight. Luckily, she wasn't from there and wouldn't see those people ever again.

Sam knew she was inside when the temperature became cooler from the air conditioner and there was a buzz of loud chatter. It seemed like they were in a lobby of some sort. The man put her down gently.

"Can I take this off now?" Sam asked. The man didn't reply but did as told.

Sam rubbed her eyes and looked around. She was right. They were in a lobby with tons of people all dressed up; not too formal, yet not too casual, so Brian was right about her attire. The people were lined up into a hallway leading on. They chattered intimately with one another, giving the room an excited aura. Sam turned around to see her escort.

"Ah-hah! See I knew it was you." She pointed at Ringo. He was wearing a fake beard and wig to cover his moptop. To anyone else, he looked like a regular old man but Sam could recognize those blue, permanent puppy dog eyes anywhere.

Ringo laughed. "I can't fool you."

"I still don't know what's going on."

"You'll find out soon." Ringo said. That phrase and related ones were really starting to tick Sam off. "C'mon, everyone is already inside." Ringo took her hand and started jogging.

"But I just want a straight answer." Sam muttered to herself. They ran into another hallway, away from the crowd. It was dark, but Ringo knew where he was going and managed to take the both of them in the right direction. It seemed like a maze. _How could anyone find this place? _Sam thought. They stopped at a door reading _Box 1 Entrance. _

"This is us." Ringo pushed and held the door out for Sam. She walked into a theatre. It was befitting to say that she was awestruck. They were inside a box the red velvet interior. There were 12 seats, two rows of six, each with intricate designs carved into the wood. The box was above and to the left of the stage. On the ground, the people Sam had seen in the lobby before began piling in. On the stage, the curtains were closed with a single spotlight in the center. In front of it was the orchestra pit, where the symphony tuned their instruments. Something was bound to begin. Ringo gave her a gentle push and told her to take a seat.

Sam took a seat in the front row center. She inhaled. _The sweet scent of the arts. _

Cynthia felt someone take the empty seat next to her. She saw Sam gazing around. "Hey!" She looked behind her and saw that everyone else came back from the bathrooms in time for the show.

Sam waved. "Oh hey."

"I see you got here all right."

"Sure." Sam snorted. "I woke up this morning thinking I was going to spend the day just relaxing. Next thing I know I'm kidnapped, blindfolded, and unknowingly taken to this beautiful theatre. But now because of all of that, I'm grateful."

"I told you we'd see a show on Broadway once we hit New York."

"Broadway?" They were all really good at keeping a secret. She thought that it was just some regular theatre people always went to or something. Or the thought of being in Broadway never really crossed her mind. She turned around. The boys were sitting together. Brian sat next to Paul on one end and, to which Sam had to gag, Sophia sat next to George on the other. Sophia rifled through her program but Sam couldn't see the cover. George saw her looking and smiled as if to say "You like it?"

She returned the smile and turned back around. _Ha! I knew it was you! _She felt like a detective who had finally solved the that's what he meant last night. The whole "sleep early because we have a big day tomorrow" thing. It was so that we could all see this show. The look on his face told her he set this whole thing up. And George didn't tell anyone because he wanted to surprise her with a Broadway show. Only he knew she liked it so much and her tastes because she told him when he was sick. Sam gasped. _Then that means we're watching… _

Cynthia shook Sam. "It's starting! It's starting!"

The theatre went black. The curtains onstage flew open, revealing just a gold-plated body length mirror in the center. The spotlight panned to the left wing of the stage. Silence. Suddenly, a woman dressed in leopard print from head to toe, walked out into the spotlight. Her eyes scanned around the theatre while the audience cheered, though she seemed unaffected by the response, as if they weren't even there. It was her, the _star. _It was

"Barbra." Sam whispered to no one through the continuous applause. She didn't know what else to say. It was like someone had figured out her dreams and turned them into reality. There needn't be anything else to say.

Barbra walked to the mirror, the spotlight following her every move. She stopped to look herself and smirked adoringly. "Hello gorgeous." Not even a minute into the show and Babs had already made it.

The show was just… incredible. It was magical. Sam was so focused on the show, she hadn't noticed that half the time, Louise would be talking to her; she didn't even realize that Louise sat next to her or that she tossed something into her lap. Sam instantly fell in love with the Fanny Brice character. She was excited when Fanny proved everyone wrong and joined the Ziegfeld Follies. She cried (more like blubbered and breathed hard so no one would give her such a hard time) when Nicky Arnstein kept leaving Fanny. It was as if she were in it herself. Each feeling a song portrayed made her feel that way as well. _Because that's how good it is! _Maybe it was because she wanted a wild romance like Fanny and Nicky… just without all the drama and more of the thrills.

Soon came the end of the show. _Fanny _held the final note for what seemed like forever. On the last downbeat, the music stopped and she cut off the note dramatically. Barbra bowed as she received a standing ovation from everyone. Sam was bawling but she clapped as well. The way she hit those high notes somehow made its way into her heart and triggered that thing that makes your chest feel heavy and you want to cry. The applause kept going, cuing the rest of the cast to come out for the curtain call. The final bow prompted for the applause to become thunderous before they would be hidden away again by the curtain.

The house lights turned back on. People began shuffling out of their seats. Sam and Cynthia looked at each other and they just had to laugh.

"You were moved by it too?" Cynthia sniffed and dabbed at a stray tear with a handkerchief.

Sam breathed. "Yeah." She wanted to say more but she was too overwhelmed. She still hadn't gotten over the fact that she had seen Barbra Streisand LIVE! "It was just… yeah." She nodded.

Louise tapped her on the shoulder. "Hey I was trying to talk to you throughout the show and you didn't listen!"

"Oh sorry." Sam said, embarrassed at how emotional she was that day over something that wasn't real. "I was just so wrapped into it." She looked down at what Louise gave her before. It was the program of the show.

"I know, the cast was just great." Louise agreed. "Here," She reached into her bag for something. "Clean yourself off."

Sam took the tissue and patted gently around her eyes. "Thanks."

"We better get going, I suppose." They all filed out of the box and went back into the maze-like hallway. Sam was sure to keep up with the group and not get herself lost.

"Hey."

Sam turned around and grinned. "Hi George."

They moved towards the walls to let people pass through. "Did you like the show?"

"Are you kidding? I loved it."

George beamed. "I knew you would."

"And I knew you set this whole thing up! I nearly got a heart attack with everyone being all secretive and not knowing where I was going." She playfully punched him on the arm. "Only you know I liked Barbra. But why'd you go through all the trouble of doing this?" She put her hands up and motioned to where they were.

"It's thanks."

"Thanks for?"

"For picking me up when I was down." He held her by the shoulders. "Technically, if you didn't make me better, there wouldn't have been an Ed Sullivan show featuring the Beatles."

"I know." She smirked. "But thanks. It was really thoughtful." Sam pulled him into a hug. She then realized how silent the hallway was and opened her eyes. "Oh shoot, we lost the group."

"Huh?" George looked onward and saw that they were the only two left. "Oh seems like we did. But that's okay because we weren't going to catch up with them anyway. I've got another surprise for you."

"More surprises?"She giggled as he pulled her in different directions just like Ringo had done earlier. "This 'getting lost' thing is kinda getting old!"

"But it'll be worth it!" He shouted. They were going further and further away from the lobby and the door they went through for the box seats. George pulled Sam by the arm down a flight of stairs and into what seemed like backstage of the theatre.

"George, slow down." She panted but they kept running. "I don't think we're supposed to be here."

"Remember, I'm a Beatle. I can do anything!" George replied semi-arrogantly. They were in a different hallway. This time, with doors going into the different dressing room of each cast member. George scanned the signs on each door, looking particularly for the one of the star of the show.

"Hey, you know you're not supposed to be here!"

They turned around. A man dressed in all black was coming their way and he didn't seem all too happy about them being there. _Oh, we're gonna get it now!_

The man took off his sunglasses once he got to them. "Anybody let you kids back here?"

Sam was about to speak but George beat her to it. "I'm sorry sir, there seems to be a misunderstanding. I was just tryi—"

The security guard got a good look at him while George spoke. "Hey, I know you, you're one of the Beatles!" the security guard nodded. "Yeah, yeah. You're uh, you're" He squinted his eyes. "You're George."

"Yes, that's me." George laughed nervously. He didn't know if that would change anything.

"Well I only know that because of my daughter. She's 13, loves the Beatles, especially you. We watched you all on Ed Sullivan last night." The security guard went on. He sounded more like a father now instead of a scary security guard. "So I guess you guys came to watch the show today. Did you like it?"

"Yeah, it was great. The band and our whole entourage came along. Well actually came to watch because my friend here is a big Barbra Streisand fan." George pushed Sam in front of him. "This is my friend Sam."

"Hi." Sam said shyly and gave a little wave.

"Since she's a big fan and all, I was just taking her backstage so she could meet her idol. Is that okay?"

The security guard's demeanor changed. "Sure, anything for you and your friend!" _Associating with the Beatles really had its perks. _"I just have one favor to ask."

"Go ahead."

He took out the newspaper protruding from his back pocket and a pen from behind his ear. It wasn't a surprise that on the front cover was a picture of the Beatles at the Ed Sullivan show. That picture was everywhere that morning. "You you sign this for my little girl?"

George took the pen and newspaper. "What's her name?"

"Brittany. B-R-I-T-T-A-N-Y." He replied. His daughter would be so mad if he got it for her and he spelled it wrong. While George signed the newspaper, the security guard led them to a door with a big golden star on it reading _Barbra Streisand. _

"Here you go." George handed back the newspaper to the security guard.

"Thanks. Let me just see if she's up for visitors." He knocked on the door lightly.

Sam heard a muffled "Come in!" from behind the door. She smiled at George excitedly. There was a high chance she'd meet the song bird.

Inside the dressing room, Barbra had just finished changing into her street clothes and was getting ready for brunch with her cast members. She smiled when she saw Marty poking his head through the door.

"Hey Marty, what's up?" She greeted while towel drying her hair. "The cast was going out for a bite somewhere. Wanna come?"

Marty shook his head. "It's okay, I have to go somewhere soon. But I'm here because there's someone who wants to see you. Can you spare some time?"

"Sure, but who is it?"

"I think you'll be happy when you see him." Marty opened the door, exposing George and Sam.

Barbra's eyes widened. "My God, George Harrison?" She dropped her towel and ran over to shake his hand. "Hi! Oh, I am such a big fan. I saw you guys on the Ed Sullivan show last night and it was amazing. I finally bought your guys' new album last week and, as you can see, it's been on repeat." _This Boy _had been playing in the corner on a record player softly. The LP sleeve was tossed to the side carelessly, as if she'd been in a hurry to listen to it. "What are you doing here? You Beatles don't have any interviews or anything today?"

"To watch you of course. Today was our day off. By the way, great show!" And he meant it. Now he knew why Sam liked it so much. The songs and the story made you feel as if you were part of it. Everyone on that stage was really talented. They were all triple threats. They could sing, dance, and act. George could go on.

"Well, while you're here, could you sign my LP?" She reached for the discarded sleeve and grabbed a pen from the nearby vanity. "I feel like I'd never get this chance again."

"Sure, but first, is it okay if I use your bathroom?" George pointed towards the toilet. "I think I had a little bit too much water before the show."

"Yeah, go ahead. Now I get to say 'Hey everybody! George Harrison used my toilet!'" Barbra joked. George laughed before closing the door.

Barbra looked over Sam who had been quiet the entire time she and George walked in. Sam was too star struck. She couldn't believe she was in the presence of her favorite singer. The moment was unreal. She had to hold onto the back of George's jacket the entire time to make sure this was all happening. "Hi there." Barbra greeted her graciously. "What's your name?"

"Samantha Taylor Stratford." She beeped. "But people call me Sam. You know, like Sam I am. But I don't like green eggs and ham, because that would be gross." Sam took a deep breath to slow herself down. "Ms. Streisand that was a lovely show. You really are a _funny girl_. You are my favorite singer."

"Thank you Sam. That means a lot. It's that kind of response that keeps me going." Barbra grabbed a brush and started brushing out the tangles in her hair. "But please don't call me 'Ms. Streisand.' It's way too formal and I bet you're not even that younger than me. How old are you Sam?"

"18. I'll be 19 in May." She answered, feeling bolder.

"Only 18? You seem so much older, but in a good way. Mature-looking, I should say." Barbra took a gentle hold of Sam's chin and examined her carefully. "Have you ever thought of being a model Samantha Stratford?"

"Uh…no? I mean, it hasn't really crossed my mind before…" She didn't picture this meeting to be about her.

She let go of her chin. "With a nice cheekbone structure and complexion that? It would be a waste if you weren't."

"Well thanks Ms. Strei—I mean, Barbra."

Just then, they heard the toilet flushing, as if playing George out of the bathroom. "I can sign your record now." Barbra gave him the pen and sleeve. "To Barbra, Love George Harrison." He read out loud as he wrote. "And here you go."

"Thanks."

"We better get going. We don't want you to be late for your brunch." George started walking the two of them out.

"Wait Barbra!" Sam opened her purse and took out her program. _PLAYBILL _was labeled on the top in bold letters over yellow. On the front cover was a picture of Barbra and Sydney Chaplin (Nicky Arnstein,) above them were the words _Funny Girl_. "Will you sign my Playbill, please?"

"Of course! Anything for a fan." Barbra took the program and scribbled a message over it with her pen.

Barbra gave it back to her. "Thank you so much."

"Let's go now." George said to her. "Everybody will be waiting for us." He shook Barbra's hand again. "Goodbye Barbra. Keep buying our albums!" George quipped before leaving.

"Bye Barbra." Sam said.

"Bye Sam." Barbra replied. "Thanks for being a fan."

Sam couldn't stop giggling as she closed the door behind her. _That did not just happen! _She ran over to George, who had been waiting for her by the stairwell.

"Happy?" George sneered.

"Mmhmm." Sam nodded vigorously and ran up the stairs before George.

"Ay, you come back here! Don't you forget who did all this for you!"

* * *

"Some people are never cut out for school. I was one of them." John said as they ate. After the show, they had gone to lunch in the hotel's restaurant. Brian got them a private room.

"That's because the teachers all hated you." Paul teased.

John took a sip of his drink. "They were just jealous.

George looked over at Sophia, who hadn't eaten much. She only had salad from the appetizer and half of the pasta she ordered, which really wasn't that big. She said she would take the rest home. "How were you in school Sophie?"

"I was on the honor roll." She said proudly.

"Oh really?" Brian said with intrigue.

"Yup." Sophia nodded. "When I graduated, I ended up being the class valedictorian."

"Wow, that's great! Good for you!" Brian praised. "You must have worked really hard."

"Actually, school was pretty easy for me. My friends used to complain because I wouldn't really try and still got good grades." Sophia turned to Sam. "What about you Sam? How were you in school?"

"I was all right, I guess." She said as she speared some ravioli and popped it into her mouth.

"All right?" Ringo cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

"School was a bit tough for me. Sometimes I did really good and other times I did eh…" She stuck her hand out horizontally and shook it as she spoke. "But, you know, I got by. I graduated, unlike some people!" Sam looked over at the other side of the table and smirked. John looked around the room and whistled.

Paul pretended to be offended. "Don't look at me! You know I graduated."

"That's okay Sam. At least you're not like me." Ringo said. "I missed school so much I was held back."

"And I just didn't like school." George shrugged.

"But Ringo, you were in the hospital." Sam reasoned.

"Well Sam, kinda like John said, school isn't for everyone." Sophia said bluntly as she looked at her nails.

Sam stared at her. _School isn't for everyone? Is she trying to call me dumb? _She looked around the table. Everybody just kept on eating, thinking nothing of what she said. Sam smiled bitterly. "Right."

Cynthia had to make sure she was hearing correctly. She looked up from her plate and saw Sam glaring holes into Sophia's skull. Yep, she heard right. That was another thing she didn't like about Sophia- she could be so rude and didn't say anything about it. And to Sam! Sam didn't do anything to Sophia. She looked over to George, who was trying to eat but Sophia kept talking to him. Just then she came up with a great idea. _Now I know how to make Sam extra happy today and annoy Sophia at the same time! It's killing two birds with one stone!_

She leaned her head on John's shoulder. "Hey John?"

"Mmm?" He hummed while swallowing his food.

"You know, we don't go out that much?"

"What do you mean? We're out right now."

"No I mean like dates." Cynthia said. "Remember before Julian we went on a lot of dates? Even double dates."

"Married people still do that?"

Cynthia smacked him on the arm. "Of course they do! Now we're not doing anything tonight. Let's eat someplace nice for dinner together."

John shrugged. "Yeah, okay."

"George, Sam. You wanna go with us? I need to experience double dates again. It won't even be like a double date. It's more of a, a group meal." She glanced at the both of them.

"What about us?" Paul and Ringo said simultaneously.

"But Neil told me he wanted to show this club he found out about yesterday." Cynthia turned to her right. "Right Neil?"

Neil looked at her incredulously. "I don't reme—"

"Right, Neil?

Neil gulped. He's seen what Cynthia could be like when she's mad. She's done it John loads of times but he's probably used to it already. But he didn't want that anger pointed toward him. So he went along with it. "Right. I found this club somewhere near here that only you two would like. Tonight then? I think their having some sort of special. How does that sound?"

"Sure." Paul nodded. "I could use a boys' night out."

"Sounds good." Ringo agreed.

"Sam, George? What about you?" Cynthia asked again. "Can you come with us? I'd only go with John but it can be a bore just talking to him the whole night." John rolled his eyes next to her.

George looked at Sam across the table. "You wanna go?"

"Yeah, sounds like fun." Sam said. She looked over at Sophia who was trying hard to not seem like she cared. _Anything to irritate her. _And it was a date! A real date with George! Kind of. Well they were going out as a group but they were paired up. And she was coupled with George. "I'm up for it."

"Good then it's a doub—group meal."

"Group meal."

* * *

Sam and George looked over the menu while they waited. Cynthia had reserved them a booth in the back so they wouldn't attract attention. She didn't like going out with John in a disguise. She wanted to be on a date with him as _him. _No matter what the cost.

Sam put her menu down and looked around from behind the booth. _Still no sign of them. _They'd been waiting there for about 15 minutes. The two of them got there together at 5 pm. Cynthia said something about how they needed to beat the dinner rush. She said they would meet them there because she wanted to go buy something with John beforehand. Sam looked across the table at George. "Cyn did say five 'o clock, right?"

"Maybe they're buying a lot of things?" George continued looking at his menu, confused. "Is it better if I get the club sandwich or the BLT pizza? They look and seem like they taste the same but the pizza is more expensive. And they both look like about the same portion size."

"Mr. Harrison?" A waiter came to their table. "There's someone on the phone and wants to talk to you."

"Who is it?"

"John." He replied, assuming it was a Beatles thing.

"I'll ask them where they are." George said to Sam as he slid out of the booth. "Let's go." The waiter led him to the kitchen.

Sam took out a compact mirror from her purse. _I guess it's a good time to see if I look all right. _She was amazed at how easy they got in here. There were little to no fans waiting downstairs at the hotel. She figured it's because they thought since the show was over already that they would leave. But if they did have trouble, it was okay, because Mal was there to protect them. But other than that, everything went smoothly. George hailed a taxi and told the driver where-to and they were there in a matter of minutes. Cynthia had told the restaurant who they were and the restaurant was instructed to let them in the back door. It was kind of weird, but still, no hassle.

George came back after a couple of minutes. "Bad news. John and Cyn can't make it."

"What? Why?"

"John says Cyn isn't feeling good. So he's looking after her." George slid back into his seat. "He scolded me and said I passed the bug over to her."

"Oh no! Is she gonna be okay?"

"She'll be fine, she's just resting. But we can still have fun, right?"

Sam smiled. Hearing him say that made her relieved. _It's just the two of us. This is officially the best day ever! _"Yeah, right."

"Are you ready to order?" George asked.

"Yup."

George called the waiter who came earlier over. He ordered the BLT pizza (even though it was more expensive, he'd never tried it before and it seemed exotic) and Sam ordered a gourmet cheeseburger. The waiter scribbled the orders into a notepad and left. 20 minutes later, he came back with their food.

"Hmm. Tastes like a regular sandwich." George said as he took a bite of the pizza. "It's just a BLT sandwich in pizza form! I knew there was nothing special about it. How's your burger?"

"I don't think I'll be able to finish." Sam was trying to figure out a way to hold the cheeseburger. It was way too big to fit in her mouth whole and something parts were sticking out. _Messy. I should've ordered something lighter. _

"It's okay, you can box it for later or we can share. I don't think my food is enough." He had already finished ¾ of it.

"Yeah, we can share." She tried her best to cut it in half and put one of them on his plate. They spent the next hour eating and talking; basically getting to know each other better. It was weird. Being with each other that night was a new yet familiar experience.

"You know, if we were doing this same thing last year, I would have been out the window ages ago."

"Ha ha ha, you're so funny George!" Sam sneered.

"I'm sorry I was so mean to you." He apologized truthfully.

"It's okay, you were stupid then."

"And you were annoying."

Sam rolled up her napkin and threw it at his face. "Whatever George!"

When they finished eating, the waiter came back with the bill. "It's been a good day." Sam reflected.

"I'll say." George glanced up from the bill and saw Sam taking out her wallet. "Put that away Sam."

"What?" She started fishing out a couple US bills. "I know you're a Beatle and all but I can't let you pay for everything."

"Really Sam, let me."

She heard the seriousness in his voice. "Why what's wrong with me paying?"

"Because," He took her hand away from the wallet and held it gently in his. He looked at her straight in the eye. "Gentlemen always pay on the first date."

* * *

"John?"

John turned around to see his wife awake. He had been eating ice cream on the couch and watching tv while waiting. "Oh I see you're up then. How are you feeling?"

"Good." She assured and went to sit next to him. "Did you call the restaurant?"

"Yeah. George said he and Sam are just going to stay and hang there."

Cynthia smirked. "Good. Then everything is going out as planned." She took the spoon from his hand and scooped herself some of his ice cream.

John looked at her, alarmed. "Hey! You told me you were sick!"

"I know."

"Were you lying?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"So that things around here can be as it should be." She said simply.

"You just want to see those two together, don't you?"

"Yep." She took another scoop of ice cream.

"It was bound to happen, wasn't it?"

"Mmhmm."

John smiled down at her. "And I love you even more for giving them a push."

Cynthia looked at her husband. She didn't expect him to say something like that. "I love you too." She gave him a wet ice cream kiss on the cheek.

* * *

"George stop it!" Sam desperately tried swatting his hand away from her face. "When I said I wanted to see Central Park, I meant _see _Central Park. This is the second time today I don't know where I'm going."

"We're here." George uncovered his eyes. Sam looked at the lonely swing set and back at him. "I'll push."

"Oh, George!" She took off her flats and ran over to one of the swings. George walked to where she was and went behind her. He pushed her back with all of his might and watched her fly. "Yeah!" She felt the cool night air brush pass her face. The feel of George's rough callous hands pushing her was comforting.

"We're back to where we once started." Sam mused in mid-swing. When she flew backwards, she went all the way up as she did forwards. No push. She turned around to see she was by herself. "George?" She faced forward and saw him standing in her way. Doing the first thing she could think of and not wanting to kick him, she fell out of the swing. "Ahh!"

The two of them tumbled to the ground. Sam landed on top of George's body. _MMFF! _"Oww…" She slowly got off of him. "Oh gosh, George are you okay?"

"Yeah." George said with his eyes closed, too sore to move just yet.

"Stupid!" She slapped him on the arm. "You could've gotten really hurt again!"

It took him a couple seconds to sit up. He looked into her worried eyes and laughed again. "I was just going to say it's not like before." George leaned in so their faces were centimeters apart. Her expression was now a mix of confusion and surprise. "Because this time I didn't leave." With that, he closed the gap between them. George parted her lips so they fit together like jigsaw puzzles. He took her face in the palm of his hands and gently stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. They fell back into the ground again. Sam's mind went hazy. She didn't want this to end. _Fireworks. _She didn't know if it was from the kiss or if someone was letting them go nearby, but she felt that spark. Sam had a feeling it was here to stay.

It was truly the perfect ending to the perfect day.

* * *

**A/N: Well, good golly Miss Molly that was chapter 14, the last chapter of **_**Baby It's You**_**! Actually, there'll be an epilogue so this isn't really the last chapter. But if I did take away the epilogue, this would. Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed this tidbit. Let me just say that this chapter has taken me the entire week to type out and edit. Sorry if there are any errors. By edit, I mean scan because I was just tired. It is by far the longest chapter I've ever written. I feel like I've just ran a marathon. **_**Whew! **_**I have nothing else to say. You guys know what's going on. Next week, the epilogue of **_**Baby It's You **_**will come out, I promise. So be on the lookout for that. All right, now I have nothing else to say except thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter, please review this one? It'll make a girl living on a rock somewhere really, really happy. **

**Beatles question of the chapter: Favorite Beatles picture? Links please!**


	16. Epilogue

_London, England, 1965_

Light peeked through the curtains, giving the room a faded glow. A guitar strummed gently somewhere in the background. A certain blonde fluttered her eyes open but shielded them quickly as that much light was too much to handle. The guitar didn't stop playing. Sam rolled over so she was on her side and saw that the space on the bed next to her was empty.

"So you're up then." George got up from a nearby arm chair and put his guitar down. He went over and sat next to Sam on the bed.

She grinned bashfully at him. "Morning."

"Good morning, Ms. Stratford." George bent down to peck her on the lips.

Sam shoved him a little. "Hey, it's Mrs. Harrison now." She couldn't stop staring at the enormous rock on her finger. She sighed and leaned her head on George's shoulder while admiring the ring.

"No, no, don't be Mrs. Harrison! That's my mum! That'll be weird!"

Sam closed her eyes again. She took one of his hands and rubbed it absentmindedly with her thumb. They were rough and calloused from guitar playing for so long. "So what were you doing up so early?" She asked softly.

"Just finished writing my song." George answered. He played with one of Sam's curls. "_If I Needed Someone. _I told John I'd have it finished by today so we can mull it over. I'm dropping by the studio later. Paul's giving me a ride."

"Today?" Sam dropped his hand and looked at him. "George, we're leaving tomorrow. You're going to be at the studio all day and then you'll come back late in the night. We'll be too tired to wake up, 'cause you know you're the one to wake me up when I sleep in late, and then we'll miss our flight! Also we haven't done much together since we got married. And that was on Saturday! Today is Monday!"

"Look at us, fighting like an old married couple already." George laughed. "Now I know how mum and dad feel."

Sam glared at him. "I'm serious."

George took her into his arms. No matter how mad or grumpy she was, he knew she liked the feeling of being in his arms. He smiled when he felt her lean in closer so his chin rested on top of her head. He planted a kiss in her hair. "Don't worry, I won't stay out that long. John said we won't be recording until we come back next week. We're just seeing how the songs will go right now. It saves time when putting the album together. I'll be back before midnight. Besides, we're almost completely packed already. We'll both get a good night's sleep and be up in the morning on time because of it. Is that okay?"

"All right, fine." She answered. "But is a new song really more important than your wife?" Sam joked.

He raked his fingers through her hair. "Who did you think inspired the song?"

She looked up and deep into his eyes. She loved those rare quiet moments between them where they would just stare into each others' eyes. It was as if the rest of the world melted away and it was only the two of them. No words needed to be said, eye contact was a whole language in itself. Sam once read an article about the Beatles in a teen magazine. It said that when George Harrison looked at you, it was like he was staring into your soul and he could read you easily like a book. She now knew what they meant.

Have you ever met that person who just won't leave you alone? They're like that mosquito that keeps buzzing around you, no matter how much you swat the air. Or that overplayed song on the radio that plays on every station. It's like "Enough! Can you just get away from me?" And the thing that's the most annoying about that person is that no matter how hard you try, they can never take the hint that you don't want to hang out with them!

Yeah, George Harrison was glad he did.

He craned his neck and kissed her again but for a good long time. When their lips parted for air, George couldn't help but giggle at Sam's flustered expression. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and bent down so his mouth was next to it.

"Because _baby, it's you._"

(-:-)

**A/N: Okay, so how was that everyone? The ending of **_**Baby, It's You**_**! I can't believe I finished it. It's been nearly a year since I started. But anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading this. Sorry I've been smothering you guys so much lately with my reading. I just can't stop typing! In fact, I've already started another story. That's how bad I am! I don't know when it'll be out but pretty soon, I guess. Just a head's up, it's a John story this time. It'll be kind of new to me since John is such a complex character to write about. So be on the lookout for that!**

**So anyways…I keep talking about me, what about you? How's everyone's summer going? I hope you aren't bumming around like a couch potato. But if you are, I'm so jealous. -_- You'd think since it's the summer you'd get a break, but no! People just keep finding new things for you to do! You get exhausted after a while, know what I mean? You just need that rest because school's going to start pretty soon! Time flies way too fast when you're away from school. I wish it was the other way around.**

**Anyways, (I say that a lot, don't I?) again, thank you for reading. To those who have been reading since the beginning, you guys rock! To those just starting, well keep going (which now actually makes no sense because this is the last chapter.) But for now, can you do that thing that makes all fanfiction writers happy? You know, that thing that starts with an r and rhymes with eview? If you don't, then I'll just go crawl into a hole and wallow. MEH.**

**Last Beatles' question for this story! What would you want to do if the Beatles hung out with you this summer? Lame, I know, but just answer it! I wanna see your responses.**


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